


somebody to someone

by bramgreenfeld



Series: somebody to someone [1]
Category: Rise (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Communication, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Feelings, Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramgreenfeld/pseuds/bramgreenfeld
Summary: “I’m scared of losing everything,” Jeremy said. “I’m scared of losing you. Losing whatever relationship I still have with Mom and Dad. Losing Anabelle, losing Simon - not that there’s anything there. I’m scared of losing the one tiny bit of control that I still have over my life, although honestly, I kind of think that I already have.”or, season one of rise from jeremy’s perspective.





	1. i just wanna be someone

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first multichapter fic for rise and i'm really excited about it, i hope that you guys like it!!  
> title and all chapter titles from someone to you by BANNERS

**You** _(7:39):_ _get in loser we’re going shopping_

**anabelle!!** _ (7:40): I’ll be out in a second!! _

Jeremy handed Anabelle an iced coffee as she climbed into the car, tossing her bag into the backseat. “You know,” she said. “A gentleman wouldn’t just text me. He would meet me at the door.”

“We’re going to school, not on a date,” Jeremy said. 

“Would you even do it if we were going on a date?”

“Well, first of all, we wouldn’t be going on a date. Sorry if you feel that way.” Anabelle shoved him lightly, and Jeremy laughed. “Also, I wouldn’t call myself a ‘gentleman.’”

“What are you, then?” Anabelle asked. “What’s the opposite of a gentleman?”

“I don’t know. A hoodlum? Is that what I am?”

Anabelle smiled. “Exactly!”

Jeremy smiled, reaching out to turn on the radio. He loved moments like this with Anabelle, moments when it seemed like they are the only two people in the world. When they were younger, they seemed to happen every minutes, but lately they had been few and far between. Jeremy didn’t want to think about why. He just wanted to savor each one while it lasted. 

“So,” Anabelle said over the soft sound of the music. “Are you trying out for Grease?”

Without meaning to, Jeremy made a face. Anabelle poked him in the arm. “Hey. I’m driving,” he said half-heartedly.

She ignored him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m just not auditioning,” he said. 

He should have known that Anabelle would see right through it. “Whatever your parents said to you about it is bullshit,” she said. “You know that, right?”

Jeremy tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, determinedly not looking over at Anabelle. “Maybe they didn’t say anything,” he said. “Maybe I just...don’t want to.” He knew that it was a lame excuse. Anabelle knew him too well to believe it. But hopefully she knew him well enough that she’d know that he’d want her to drop it.

She frowned, tilting her head slightly. He didn’t turn around to meet her eyes, but he could tell that she was staring at him. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look away, her eyes going to the window. “Fine,” she said. “I hope you’ll come to the show, at least.”

Internally, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be there every night,” he said.

“Well, you’d better start saving, then,” Anabelle said. Jeremy could hear the smile in her voice. “Tickets sell fast.” 

“Come on, you  _ know _ I’ll be first in line.” 

“If I’m not in it, _ I’m _ the one who will be first in line,” Anabelle sighed. Jeremy raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her. She had propped her chin on her hand, still staring out the car window.

“For who?” he asked.

She looked back at him, looking startled, as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “No one,” she said quickly. “Just to support the drama program.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh. “I know that face, Ana.”

“Fine, fine.” Anabelle scowled, leaning back in the seat with her arms crossed. “Maybe I like someone.”

“Who?” Jeremy asked. He frowned, trying to remember what boys were involved with theatre. He could only think of three - Francis Russo. Clark Howard. And  _ him.  _ But there was no way that that was who Anabelle was crushing on. Even Jeremy wasn’t that unlucky.

Anabelle’s face flushed. “I’m only telling you because you’d just figure it out yourself eventually.” She sighed. “Simon Saunders.”

Oh. Apparently Jeremy  _ was _ that unlucky. 

He fought to keep a straight face. “Simon?” he said.

“Yeah,” Anabelle replied. “Do you know him?”

_ Yeah, I freaking know him.  _ “A little,” said Jeremy casually. “Like, I know his face. It’s...a decent face, as faces go.” 

_ Just say it,  _ he told himself.  _ Tell her.  _ But the words wouldn’t come, getting lodged in his throat halfway to saying them. Just as they had the time before, and the time before that, and all of the times before that. And every time he ended up trapped in this cycle, beating himself up about it, so angry at himself for not just _ telling her _ . He could never figure out why he was so scared. It wasn’t like he didn’t think that she would accept it, would accept  _ him _ .

Only one person knew that Jeremy was gay, and he lived three hours away. And Jeremy wanted to keep it like that, if only to maintain the one constant thing he still had in his life. 

“Hey!” Anabelle snapped her fingers in front of his face. “I don’t think a car accident would be a good start to the morning.”

Jeremy blinked, focusing. “Sorry,” he said. “I just...spaced out.”

He could feel Anabelle studying him. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jeremy forced his face into a neutral expression. “Tell me more about Simon.”

And seeing Anabelle smile almost made him feel better. Almost.

***

“I want to see my little boy,” said Jeremy the instant that the Skype call connected.

Zach wasn’t on the screen, but Jeremy could hear him yell, “Here he comes!” from somewhere else in the room. “Very slowly,” he added after a few seconds. “He’s kind of dragging his feet. Come on, Uncle Jeremy wants to see you.”

“I’m willing to wait,” said Jeremy.

“I’m not,” Zach replied. “Up you go…” Jeremy heard the sound of paws scrabbling against wooden floor, and then there was a corgi sitting in front of the camera.

He smiled. “Hi, Mikey!”

“Of course. Just greet the dog. Pretend I’m not here.” Zach say down on the couch next to his dog. Mikey jumped up, leaping off of the couch. Jeremy could hear him running out of the room. “He left because you didn’t call him by his full name,” said Zach. 

“I’m not calling him that.”

“It was your idea!”

“It was a  _ joke _ ! I didn’t think you would actually name your dog Microwave!”

Zach pointed at him through the screen. “There. You acknowledged it. No taking it back now.” He frowned suddenly, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, are you in my room?”

“No,” said Jeremy. “I’ve started dabbling in home invasion.”

“Can you flip the camera?” Zach asked, ignoring him. “I want to see if anything about it has changed.”

“Nothing since the last time you were here,” said Jeremy. Yet still he picked up the phone, pointing the back camera at the center of the room. Their parents hadn’t touched anything in Zach’s bedroom since he had left for college four years ago. The bed was still made, the dresser and shelves were collecting dust. Zach’s posters were still on the wall, and his jerseys still hung in the closet. 

“Don’t steal anything,” he heard Zach say. He turned the camera back around, leaning it up against the windowsill.

“From who? You, or the homes that I’m invading?”

“In general,” said Zach. “As your older brother, that’s the lesson I’m teaching you today -  _ don’t steal anything. _ Although I hope that you’ve already figured that out. Oh - I have a question for you,” he said suddenly. Jeremy didn’t flinch. He was used to Zach’s rapid-fire speech.

“What’s up?” Jeremy asked. 

“So, I was checking out the Stanton High website,” Zach said. “And I noticed that you guys are doing Grease again?”

Jeremy stifled a groan. He didn’t want to talk about this again. “Yeah. The second time in six years.”

“Hey, what the school lacks in individuality, it makes up for in talent,” Zach said defensively. “Anyway, what I wanted to ask about was the kid playing Danny Zuko.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrows. “Why, want to see who’s following in your footsteps?”

Zach shook his head. “You can see the cast list online. The thing is, I think you’ve mentioned him before. Simon Saunders?”

Jeremy’s face went bright red, and Zach burst out laughing. “ _ Wow. _ ”

Jeremy buried his head in his hands. “Shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Zach said, still laughing. “Just...damn, if that’s your reaction to just hearing his name, how do you deal with going to school with him?”

“I don’t,” said Jeremy. He had biology with Simon - he sat right behind him. Sometimes it was difficult to concentrate knowing that he was there.

“I  _ need  _ to teach you how to flirt.” Zach leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. “By the end of the year I’ll get you a boyfriend. I promise.”

“That’s what you said last year.”

“It’s going to happen this time,” said Zach. “I guarantee it.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Did you not audition?” Zach asked, changing the subject. 

Jeremy sighed. “Maybe I just didn’t get in.”

Zach shook his head. “Jeremy, have you heard yourself sing? You would have gotten in.”

Jeremy shrugged, not sure how to feel about the compliment. “That’s not what I was worried about,” he said softly.

Zach glanced at him through the screen. Jeremy could see pity in his eyes, and he hated it. “Whatever Mom and Dad said to you,” he said, “You can’t just give up because of it.”

“Why not?” Jeremy replied. “You did.” His phone buzzed, and a notification came up at the top of the screen - Anabelle was trying to Skype him. “I have to go,” he said, grateful for the interruption. “Anabelle’s calling me.”

“Jer…”

“See you later,” Jeremy said, pressing the end call button. For a moment he just sat there, leaning back against Zach’s windowsill, trying to force everything that they had talked about out of his head.  _ Especially _ Simon. He didn’t want to think about him while he talked to Anabelle.

He took a deep breath and accepted her call.

“What took you so long?” Anabelle demanded as soon as he picked up. Her face looked flushed, her eyes bright. 

“I was talking to Zach,” Jeremy said. “What’s up?”

“God, I don’t even know where to begin,” Anabele sighed. She shifted slightly, her phone zooming out. Jeremy got a glimpse of her bedroom, the pink walls and the playbills, before she began to speak again. “Like, a  _ lot  _ happened today.”

“Involving Simon?” Jeremy asked, attempting to sound encouraging. 

Anabelle made a face at him. “You’re worse than Zach, honestly. And no, it’s not about him. You have Mr. Mazzuchelli for English, right?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, apparently he’s replacing Ms. Wolfe as director.”

Jeremy’s brows furrowed. “ _ What?  _ Why?” He liked Mr. Mazzu well enough, from what he knew of him, but he had never made much of an impression on him. He seemed like an okay person, but Jeremy found his class, his teaching, to be...bland. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to direct.

“I have no idea,” said Anabelle. “Ms. Wolfe’s staying on as assistant director, at least. But the thing is, Mr. Mazzu’s changing the show. To Spring Awakening.”

Jeremy stared. “Spring Awakening?”

“Yes.”

“At a high school?”

“Yes.”

“At  _ Stanton freaking High _ ?”

“Yes!”

Jeremy leaned backwards, his head bumping against the window. “Wow,” he said. “That...doesn’t seem like a show we would do.”

Anabelle nodded. “You don’t understand,” she said. “Mr. Mazzu’s holding another round of auditions. You could try out!”

Jeremy shook his head. “No, Anabelle. I couldn’t.”

Anabelle scowled. “Why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jeremy said. “Look, I need to go. I have homework.”

“Jeremy, wait,” Anabelle said. “Why do you listen to them?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” he said quietly. Anabelle frowned at him, her shoulders slumping. Jeremy hated seeing her like that. He hated everything about it. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Anabelle ended the call before he could, and silence filled the room. Jeremy stared out the window at the stars slowly beginning to appear in the sky.  _ You can see the same stars everywhere,  _ he thought. Anabelle could see them from a few miles away. Zach could see them from New York. Jeremy himself would be able to see them from wherever he went when he finally got the hell out of Stanton, away from his parents, away from their expectations, away from everything weighing him down.  _ Soon _ , he thought, pressing his hand against the window.  _ Soon. _

_ *** _

Jeremy got the text a few days later.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:24) _ :  _ You should go to the lake right now _

**You** _ (6:24): i know that you haven’t lived here in a while but i hope you remember that that’s where people go to make out _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** ( _ 6:25): It’s freezing cold I don’t think anyone’s going to be making out right now _

**You** _ (6:25): can i at least get a reason why _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:25): Well I can tell you that it’s not an axe murderer _

It was only about a five minute drive to the lake. By the time Jeremy got there, the sun

had started to set, the sky’s reflection in the water turning it orange and pink and gold. There was only one car parked there, a car that Jeremy recognized instantly. If he squinted, he could see the shadow of someone sitting in the driver’s seat, and in the backseat, a dog.

He parked quickly, running over to the car and knocking on the window. “What the hell?” he said as soon as Zach unlocked the car, letting Jeremy open the door. “What are you doing here?”

Zach grinned at him, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. “Surprise!”

“Couldn’t you have just called?” Jeremy said. He tried to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his face. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” said Zach. “Come on, sit down. It’s cold.”

Jeremy climbed into the car, turning around to see Microwave in the backseat. “Hi, Mikey,” he said to him. Mikey’s tail started wagging so hard that Jeremy could hear it thumping against the back of the seat. “See,” said Jeremy. “He likes when I call him that.” He leaned forwards, letting Mikey lick his face.

“Nah,” said Zach. “He just likes seeing you regardless of you screwing up his name.”

“I’m grateful.” Jeremy moved back to the front seat, looking at Zach. “Why did you drive all this way, anyway?”

Zach reached over, pulling Jeremy into a one-armed hugged. “Because you’re my brother and I love you and I was worried about you.”

Jeremy looked up at Zach. “Why? What’s up?”

“What do you  _ think _ is up, Jer?” Zach frowned at him. “You completely shut down when I asked you about the play. It’s not like you.” 

Jeremy moved away from him, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of the seat. “Maybe it is like me.” 

“Dude, enough with the maybes!” Zach said. “Have you ever noticed that that’s what you say whenever you want to avoid answering something? Because I have.” 

“So has Anabelle,” Jeremy muttered. “She hates it.”

“Of course she does!” Zach yelled. 

Jeremy flinched, turning away from Zach. They were both silent, the only sounds Microwave’s breathing and the wind coming off of the lake. Suddenly, Jeremy felt Zach’s hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Look at me.” Jeremy didn’t move, and he heard Zach sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just...what did they say to you?”

Jeremy stared out the window. The fireflies had started to come out, their lights winking against the growing darkness. “What do you think?” he said. “They told me that I’m wasting what little potential I have. That I’ll fall behind in my classes. That I won’t be successful like  _ you _ .” He turned around at the last sentence, meeting Zach’s eyes. There was no anger in his words, only resigned bitterness. 

Zach bit his lip. “They really said that?” he asked softly.

Jeremy nodded. “What they meant was that you gave up on acting after your freshman year. Exactly like I’m supposed to. So honestly, you trying to talk me out of it is kind of hypocritical.” Zach tried to speak again, but Jeremy cut him off. “When I saw you in Grease, I was eight years old, and I was so used to seeing you as this...I don’t know, this jock. And like, I was a kid, and I freaking worshipped you. I wanted to be everything that you were, but I really, really couldn’t play sports. And so I saw you on stage, and you looked so happy, and I thought, ‘Oh, I can do that. I can be like him.’ And then you just  _ gave up _ . You had all this talent, and you just gave it up. And so maybe I got what I wanted. Maybe I did end up like you.”

For a moment, Zach just stared at him. Jeremy looked away from him, glancing up at the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of Mikey, his tongue out and tail wagging, oblivious to the conversation happening before him. Finally, Zach cleared his throat, and Jeremy looked at him. “I don’t want you to be like me,” Zach said. “I want you to be better. And honestly, I think you already are.”

Jeremy frowned. “Did you just quote Spiderman at me?”

Zach looked surprised. “Um, I guess so. I didn’t even realize it, Tom Holland’s just always in my head. Anyway, my point was that you’re  _ already  _ better than me. Did I ever tell you that the whole reason why I got cast as Danny was because I was the only boy who auditioned?”

“You - what?” Jeremy stared at him, his eyes wide. “But you were so good!”

“Yeah. We got kind of lucky.” Zach grinned, reaching out to punch Jeremy’s shoulder. “But seriously. You’re ten times better than I am, in every way. Except for athletically. Just for a second, imagine that Mom and Dad didn’t say a word about this. What do you have to be afraid of?”

For a long moment, Jeremy was silent, staring out over the lake. “I’m scared of losing everything,” he said finally, the words sounding like gunshots in the quiet of the night. “I’m scared of losing you. Losing whatever relationship I still have with Mom and Dad. Losing Anabelle, losing Simon - not that there’s anything there. I’m scared of losing the one tiny bit of control that I still have over my life, although honestly, I kind of think that I already have.”

“So get it back,” said Zach. He put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “You’re always doing things for other people. Do this one thing that means something to you rather than someone else, because _ you _ want to. Fuck what other people think of you. It’s what you think of you that matters.”

Jeremy didn’t say a word, his eyes still focused on the water in front of him. “At least audition,” Zach said quietly. “If Mom and Dad try to give you shit for it, I’ll take the fall for you. Okay?”

Jeremy closed his eyes. “Okay,” he whispered. 

Zach didn’t say anything, just pulled him in for a hug. And as Jeremy buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, he realized that he felt more at home than he had in months.

***

**You** _ (2:48): check the cast list _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (2:53): AHHH BRO _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (2:53): I’M SO PROUD OF YOU _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (2:53): WHAT THE FUCK I’M SO HAPPY _

**You** _ (2:54): honestly same i haven’t stopped smiling all day _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (2:54) Also can we talk about Simon?  _

_ Specifically who he has been cast as? In relation to you? _

**You** _ (2:55): no _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** ( _ 2:55): Ok _

***

Jeremy had already formed a list of excuses in his head if his parents asked him where he was in the afternoons. _Hanging out with Anabelle, talking to a teacher about an assignment, studying at the library._ He half-expected them not to even ask. Actually, no, it was more like three-quarters expected. 

He sat down in the second row of seats, in front of Anabelle. She didn’t acknowledge him, too wrapped up in a conversation with someone else. Jeremy frowned, turning to look ahead of him at the stage. Simon was sitting just a row in front of him, and, upon recognizing him, Jeremy felt his heartbeat quicken.  _ Stop it,  _ he told himself.  _ If you can’t handle looking at the back of his head, how are you going to handle being onstage with him? How are you going to handle  _ kissing  _ him?  _

God, he was going to have to  _ kiss Simon. _

“Hey, is there anyone sitting here?” Jeremy looked up, startled. There was a boy standing at the end of the row of seats, a boy who looked vaguely familiar. He was pointing at the seat next to where Jeremy’s stuff was piled.

“Oh. No, there’s no one,” Jeremy said. The other boy smiled, sitting down. “We have English together, right?”

The other boy nodded. “I’m Michael,” he said.

“Jeremy,” said Jeremy. “I didn’t realize that you were in theatre.”

“Up until a few days ago, I wasn’t,” said Michael. “I’m more of a singer than an actor. Mr. Mazzu needed boys, I guess, so my friend Maashous recommended me, and, well, here I am.” He laughed nervously, putting a hand on the back of his neck.

“I mean, if he cast you, I’m sure you’ll be great,” said Jeremy. 

Michael smiled. “Thanks,” he said. 

He opened his mouth to say more, but then Mr. Mazzu started speaking, introducing Jeremy and Michael to the rest of the troupe. Anabelle reached out as Jeremy sat down, grabbing his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she whispered. Jeremy grinned back at her, about to say something, but cut off by the sound of the auditorium door opening. He wasn’t sure who he was expecting to walk in, but it definitely wasn’t Robbie freaking Thorne.

That was how he always thought of him. Robbie freaking Thorne. He was  _ the  _ most popular kid in school - everyone knew who he was. A  _ football player.  _ A  _ jock _ . Definitely not the type of person to be in a musical. 

“How do you think Mr. Mazzu blackmailed him into this?” Anabelle whispered from behind him.

“Maybe Robbie did it voluntarily?” Jeremy said.

“No, it was definitely blackmail.” Anabelle tilted her head, thinking. “What ways do you know of that Robbie Thorne has gotten in trouble?”

Jeremy shrugged. The only thing he knew about Robbie was that he played football, and he barely knew that - he’d never even been to one of the pep rallies. He didn’t even know if he could sing. A small, cynical part of him wondered if Mr. Mazzu had only cast Robbie to generate hype for the show.

The instant that Robbie started singing in All That’s Known, Jeremy realized how wrong he was. 

“Okay, Robbie really is...wow,” Anabelle said later, coming up behind him while Michael was rehearsing his Touch Me solo. “He’s an athlete, he can sing, he’s _ really _ hot…”

“I thought that you liked…. _ ouch.”  _ Anabelle elbowed him in the ribs, and he winced. “I thought you liked someone else.”

“I still have eyes, Jeremy. Come on, I bet that even  _ you _ can tell how attractive he is.”

Jeremy was glad when Mr. Mazzu called everyone to the stage to work on Totally Fucked, ending their conversation.

***

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:05): Is rehearsal over? How did it go? _

**You** _ (6:05): good _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:06): Good like okay or good like good _

**You** _ **(6:06): good like good?** _

**Y** **ou** _(6:07): except for one thing that anabelle said that i’m probably taking too seriously_ _an_ _yway i had a really good time_

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:08): What did she say _

**You** _ (6:08): don’t worry about it, it’s really nothing _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:08): Okay we’ll come back to that later _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:09): I want to know about simon _

**You** _ (6:11): he put his hand on my knee and i think that i almost died  _

**You** _ (6:11): also he has a really nice voice _

**You** _ (6:11): and i mean i’ve heard him sing before but i kind of forgot until i heard him _

_ again and i was like oh. that’s simon saunders and i’m gay _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:13): I HAVE TO TEACH YOU HOW TO FLIRT _

**You** _ (6:13): thank you so much for the offer but i don’t want you to touch my romantic life with a ten foot pole _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:14): FINE but you have to update me every time you rehearse _

**You** _ (6:14): and now for a gay update with jeremy travers: getting gayer _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:15): Thank you Jeremy _

***

A few days passed, and surprisingly, they didn’t suck. He went to rehearsal. He sang. He acted. He tried not to stare at Simon. He pretended to smile with Anabelle when she was talking about Simon. But overall, he realized that his smiles were more real than fake. He liked this. He liked being part of something.

His parents still didn’t know that he had auditioned. But as the days went on, Jeremy found himself caring less and less. 

And then, of course, everything went to hell. 

It wasn’t that much later that Mr. Mazzu called everyone to the stage and told them what had happened - that he wouldn’t be their director, that they wouldn’t be doing Spring Awakening after all. At first, Jeremy couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying. And then it clicked, and a cold anger spread through him. Mazzu was saying something about how rehearsal was over for the day, that there would be auditions for the new show tomorrow after school, but Jeremy could hardly hear him over the ringing of his ears. As soon as he was dismissed, he got out of the auditorium as fast as he could. He drove Anabelle home, like usual, but even she was silent, staring out the window and lost in thought. 

Typically, when Jeremy got home no one was there. But today, as he was closing the door behind him, he heard someone call his name.  _ Of course,  _ he thought. _ What could make this day better?  _ He dropped his backpack on the stairs and walked over to the living room, not going in, just standing by the entrance. “Hi,” he said.

His dad didn’t look away from the television for more than a split second to verify that Jeremy was there. “Where’ve you been lately?” he grunted.

“Rehearsal,” Jeremy said. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

His dad looked up sharply, staring at Jeremy. “Rehearsal?” he echoed. 

Jeremy nodded, starting to turn away. “But I won’t be at rehearsal anymore,” he said quietly, to himself more than anyone else. “The show’s essentially cancelled and there’s no point in auditioning again. So there’s no need to yell at me for wasting my life. Trust me, I got the message last time.”

He hadn’t even seen his dad get up before he felt his hand close around his wrist, squeezing it tightly. Jeremy froze, not even allowing himself to flinch. “Don’t talk to me like that,” he growled. His grip tightened, shoving Jeremy’s wrist against the wall.

J eremy closed his eyes, nodding. “Sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

His father stood there in silence, and Jeremy could feel his eyes on him, studying him. Finally, he let go, and Jeremy snatched back his arms. “Go to your room,” he said. “I’ll talk to your mother about this.” Jeremy didn’t need to be told twice, picking up his bag and darting up the stairs. He closed his bedroom door, tossing his backpack against it and laying down on his bed, his wrist outstretched. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t bruise. Neither of his parents had left a mark on him since he was thirteen. But every moment like this made him wonder if it would happen again, and if so, when.

Jeremy sighed, rolling over and grabbing his headphones from his nightstand. On days like today, music was the only thing that could keep him sane.

***

**anabelle!!** _ (8:38): come to the school parking lot!! _

**You** _ (8:38): why _

**anabelle!!** _ (8:39): i’ll explain when you get here, just hurry!!! _

Jeremy wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived at the school, but it definitely wasn’t his friends - and Ms. Wolfe - gathered around a fire, seemingly throwing things into it. He parked quickly, running over to where he saw Anabelle. “What are you doing?” he asked.

A nabelle grinned, her face lit up by the glow of the flames. “We’re protesting,” she said.

“You’re - what?”

She gestured towards the costume racks. “We’re burning the costumes and props from Pirates of Penzance,” she said, “to protest Principal Ward replacing Mr. Mazzu.”

“What?” Jeremy repeated. “And how - whose idea -”

“Ms. Wolfe’s,” Anabelle said. She grinned at the dumbfounded look on Jeremy’s face. “I know, right?”

And so there they were. The fire lighting up their faces, the chill of the night not even touching their skin. Anabelle’s arm was around him, and she didn’t stop smiling the whole night. At some point, someone started singing, and the rest joined them. Nothing felt real, the atmosphere fuzzy in the best kind of way. 

Jeremy looked up at the sound of tires, and saw Mr. Mazzu and someone else, probably his wife, getting out of a car and staring at the sight before them. And then Principal Ward and the coach were coming outside, and exchanging words with the, and then they turned away -

“Did we just actually succeed at this?” Anabelle whispered.

“I think so,” Jeremy said back.

He didn’t know what would happen in the future. He didn’t even know what would happen in the next hour. But here, surrounded by his friends, with the glow of the flames surrounding him, feeling like anything was possible, he felt that he was looking forward to the future - something that he hadn’t been in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've made a playlist for this fic that you can find on spotify (somebody to someone by sparksandshadows) or on my tumblr!!  
> recommended listening for this chapter: the river - imagine dragons | the good part - AJR | who i am - sean grandillo  
> find me on twitter @annileej or tumblr @glorioussimon


	2. i believe that you could lead the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Most people procrastinated studying or doing their homework. Jeremy procrastinated thinking about his problems."
> 
> or, jeremy gets a weekend to himself, and does not have a date.

**You** _ (3:26): we’re doing The Scene today _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:27): Totally Fucked? _

**You** _ (3:28): no the one with simon _

**You** _ (3:28): why are you so fixated on that song _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:29): I’ve never heard you say fuck in your life it’s a monumental occasion _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:30): Let Jeremy Say Fuck _

The fact that he and Simon were going to have to kiss didn’t feel quite real until Simon’s face was just inches from his own. Jeremy hoped that his heart wasn’t beating loudly enough for Simon to hear. He hoped that he couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Great, okay,” Mr. Mazzu was saying. “Then you’ll kiss, and then after you kiss…” Jeremy didn’t hear the rest of what he was saying, too focused on the part about the kiss. He kept going over it in his head - Simon singing ( _ God,  _ he had an amazing voice), Simon in front of him, Simon’s eyes meeting his. There were so many emotions swimming in his eyes, but Jeremy found that he couldn’t identify any of them. Even after Simon pulled away, Jeremy could still feel the phantom touch of his hand on his shoulder like a brand.

After Mr. Mazzu finished talking, Jeremy moved to sit next to Anabelle. She smiled at him, but he could tell that her attention was elsewhere. Not that he could blame her. His thoughts were miles away. They were somewhere above the Pacific ocean. “Wow,” she said.

Jeremy blinked. “Yeah,” he said. His eyes again drifted to Simon, who was standing next to Lilette, leaning against the wall. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes brushing against his skin. Jeremy couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his lips.

Anabelle said something, and Jeremy looked away. “Sorry, what?”

He saw Anabelle’s face flush. “I was saying that I’m kind of jealous of you,” she said quickly. “I mean, you get a free pass to kiss Simon Saunders.” She said the last part quieter, her eyes flicking over to where Simon stood.

Jeremy looked away from her, staring at the floor. “It’s not like it means anything,” he said. 

“Still,” said Anabelle. “It’s happening. And you can’t even really appreciate it.”

Jeremy crossed his arms, trying to keep himself from scowling. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anabelle frown. “You okay?” she asked.

“Fine.”

And there it was again. The doubt. The pushing and pulling in his thoughts, half of himself telling him to  _ just say it, just come out, what’s the worst that could happen  _ and the other half resisting, because if Anabelle were to push him away, if things were to change with her, he didn’t know who he would be. But things didn’t necessarily have to change. Anabelle wouldn’t reject him because of something like this.  _ But what if she did?  _

Jeremy pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his arms.  _ One day I’ll tell her,  _ he promised himself.  _ Just...not now. Not today. _

***

His parents were waiting for him in the kitchen when he got home. He could hear their low voices, heard his name on their lips as he passed by, and attempted to sneak past unnoticed. But of course they heard him.

“Hey,” his mom said. Jeremy stopped where he was, turning around to face her. She looked just like she always did - holding herself as straight as possible so that she could seem more intimidating, her face pinched, wearing way too much makeup. She beckoned him closer, and Jeremy reluctantly obeyed, one hand clutching the strap of his backpack. “We’ll be in New York the weekend,” she said, “visiting your brother. You’d better not fuck anything up in this house while we’re gone.”

Jeremy blinked. “I’m not going with you?”

His dad, leaning against the kitchen counter, shook his head. “You’ve gotta keep your grades up somehow, right?” he said. “And with you being so  _ busy  _ lately…” - he practically spit the word ‘busy’ - “Well, we think the weekend is the perfect time to get caught up.”

There was no point in trying to argue. There was no point in telling them that that was unfair, that he had already finished all of his work, that he was still making honor roll. Jeremy had given up on negotiating whether things were ‘fair’ with his parents a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if they even knew what the word meant.

Jeremy got out of the kitchen as quickly as he could. He had barely stepped into his room before his phone started vibrating. He pulled it out of his pocket, frowning at it. Of course it was from Zach. Of course he wanted to Skype. He pressed the off button, one, twice, three times, as many as it took to get the ringing to stop. Immediately, a text came in.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (6:34): What’s up? _

He ignored the text, tossing his phone onto his desk and laying down in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He would respond to him eventually, Jeremy told himself. But not now. He couldn’t listen to Zach talking about their parents visiting, how excited he was. He couldn’t handle telling Zach that he wouldn’t be going with them, he didn’t want to explain why. Eventually he would have to. Just not today.

Most people procrastinated studying or doing their homework. Jeremy procrastinated thinking about his problems.

***

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:19): Mom and Dad say they’re coming tomorrow but you’re not? _

**You** _ (8:26): they said i’m not allowed to go _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:26): Why? _

**You** _ (8:27): because i’m ‘busy’ with the musical so i have to stay home and get caught up with school _

**You** _ (8:28): airquotes airquotes airquotes _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:29): Do you want me to talk to them? _

**You** _ (8:29): there’s no point _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:34): What are you going to do all weekend _

**You** _ (8:35): probably actually study _

**You** _ (8:35): i have a pop quiz in bio sometime next week _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:36): Isn’t Cute Simon in bio with you _

**You** _ (8:36): yes, also please stop calling him Cute Simon _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:37): You should invite him over for a study date _

**You** _ (8:37): i’m 99 percent sure he’s straight _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:38): So just study as bros. Either way you get to hang out with Cute Simon _

**You** _ (8:39): i cannot believe you _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:40): Just ask him, what’s the worst that could happen? _

***

“Hey,” Jeremy said to Simon as they left biology Friday afternoon. He couldn’t believe he was taking Zach’s advice. It had about a sixty-forty chance of crashing and burning versus working in Jeremy’s favor.

Simon looked startled for a moment, then smiled. Jeremy’s heart skipped a few beats at the expression on his face. “Uh, hey.”

“I can’t believe he’s giving us another pop quiz next week.” It was the first topic that came into Jeremy’s head, the last thing that Kranepool had reminded them of before the bell rang. 

Simon sighed. “I know,” he said.

“Rehearsal yesterday was terrifying,” Jeremy said. He wasn’t sure why he was changing the subject. Being so close to Simon seemed to be scrambling his thoughts. “I thought Mazzu was gonna make us kiss right there.” 

“Ah.” Simon nodded.

“I mean, I admire you as an actor.” God, was that too straightforward? Maybe he should have let Zach help him figure out what to say. “I feel lucky we got cast together.”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “Yeah, me too.” Jeremy tried and failed to keep his heart from leaping at his words.  _ He’s just being polite,  _ he told himself. But he couldn’t stop himself from hoping that maybe, just maybe, Simon felt something when he was with him.

“You wanna study together?” The words fell out in a rush, and Simon looked confused, frowning.

“Study?”

“Yeah, I just mean Mr. Kranepool’s pop quizzes are legendary, so…” He trailed off, hoping that Simon couldn’t see that he was blushing.

Simon frowned. “Oh, uh…”

If Simon couldn’t see that he was blushing by now then he’d have to be colorblind. “O-only if you want.”

“I mean, I’m kind of busy lately…”

“Maybe Saturday?”

Simon looked startled. He looked at the ground, blinking a few times. “Sure, I guess, yeah.” 

“Around eight?”

“Uh-huh.”

Jeremy couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. “Cool,” he said. He just stood there for a moment, trying to think of something, anything that was relevant to say. But in the end he just grinned at Simon and walked away, his head buzzing with thoughts that he had no idea how to put into words.

***

**You** _ (3:43): i actually did it _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:44): With Cute Simon? _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:44): I realize how that sounded and I apologize. I mean that you asked him to study _

**You** _ (3:45): i’m going to ignore everything you just said _

**You** _ (3:45): yes i invited him over to study _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:46): Holy shit there’s going to be a boy in the house _

**You** _ (3:47): there has been at least one boy in the house for the past 22 years _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:47): I mean like a date boy _

**You** _ (3:47): it’s not a date _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:49): When is he coming over? _

**You** _ (3:49): tomorrow at eight _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:50): Could you have picked a time that seemed less like a date _

**You** _ (3:50): i panicked _

**You** _ (3:50): do you think i freaked him out _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:51): Nah _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:51): If he’s straight he’ll just read it as ‘straight bro hanging out!!’ because we live in a heteronormative society, if he’s not he’ll be into you _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (3:52): Now let me teach you how to flirt _

***

It was 7:45 on Saturday and Jeremy couldn’t stop pacing. As if on cue, his phone vibrated twice, signaling a text.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:45): I know that you’re pacing and you should stop _

Jeremy flopped down on his bed, sighing. He’d cleaned his room, hoping that it would give Simon the illusion that he was actually neat and put-together. He kept looking at himself in the mirror, trying to flatten his hair. 

God, if he was such a wreck now, what would he do when Simon  _ actually got here _ ?

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:50): Please chill _

He finally gave in, texting Zach back.

**You** _ (7:51): am i freaking out so much that you can feel it in new york _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:51): Yes _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:52): That means that you should stop _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:52): It’ll all be fine I promise and if it’s not you can punch me _

**You** _ (7:53): i don’t want to punch you _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:54): Good because you won’t have to because it’ll all be fine _

Jeremy tossed his phone onto his bed. He’d piled up his textbooks there with his notes. Hopefully Simon wouldn’t judge him on how messy he was. Jeremy was more of a write-now-ask-questions-later person, while Simon struck him as the type of student who color-coded everything.

He tried to stop pacing, but ended up going right back to it a few moments later. Usually he listened to music when he was home alone, but nothing seemed to sound right tonight. Everything felt strangely off-kilter, every nerve in Jeremy’s body lit up.

He wasn’t sure how long everything had been silent before his phone buzzed again. He moved quickly, across the room before it had even stopped vibrating, before he realized that it was probably just Zach.

It wasn’t.

**Simon** _ (7:59): Hey! Sorry, but something came up. I can’t come over tonight, sorry. _

**You** _ (8:00): that’s totally okay :) have a good night, see you monday _

Jeremy flopped down on his bed, knocking the neat stack of textbooks off of it. He barely heard the crash as they hit the ground. He screenshotted the conversation, sending it to Zach with no comment.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:01): Are you fucking kidding me? _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:01): That’s a complete dick move _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:02): I’m so sorry Jeremy _

**You** _ (8:02): it’s fine _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:03): No it isn’t _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:03): Why do you always do that? _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:03): You always fake a smile, you always pretend that everything’s okay even when you’re hurting. What do you think will happen if you stop? _

**You** _ (8:04): it’s just a boy i’ll be fine _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:05): Don’t let this get you down, okay? _

Jeremy left him on read.

***

Jeremy felt a tiny bit better on Monday. Maybe it was the weekend without his parents - they wouldn’t be home until Tuesday morning, and he was definitely glad for it. Maybe it was that he actually felt confident about the biology quiz - despite that he hadn’t gotten a chance to study with Simon, he thought he had done well on it. Maybe it was that he had gotten a chance to think. Simon might not have been lying. Simon might have actually had a reason, a good reason, to ditch him.

He found out the truth over pizza, of all things. When Anabelle first started talking about her date, he had been excited - why wouldn’t he be? She had been his best friend since kindergarten. Of course he’d be happy for her.

But of course it was Simon.

Of course this wouldn’t work out.

Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: firefly - banners | fallingforyou - the 1975 | headphones - WALK THE MOON  
> check out the playlist on spotify (somebody to someone by sparksandshadows) or on my tumblr  
> come talk to me on tumblr @glorioussimon or twitter @annileej!!


	3. dive and disappear without a trace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe that’s what friendship is, Jeremy thought. A constant cycle of growing together and apart, over and over again. 
> 
> or, jeremy and anabelle talk, and jeremy makes a decision.

**anabelle!!** _ (7:45): Hey where are you?? _

**anabelle!!** _ (7:50): Can you please give a me a sign that you’re alive??? _

**anabelle!!** _ (7:53): I’m just going to ask my mom to drive me, text me when you wake up!! _

**You** _ (8:42): OH NO _

**You** _ (8:42): I’M SO SO SORRY _

Jeremy didn’t cross paths with Anabelle until lunch, and even then, first he heard rather than saw her.

Jeremy was the first to arrive at their lunch table. He dropped his backpack on the floor, not even bothering to get his lunch out of it, and laid his head down on the table. He felt someone sit down next to him a few moments later. “Are you alright?” Anabelle asked.

He looked up, blinking a few times. “Sorry again about not picking you up this morning,” he said.

“It’s fine,” said Anabelle. “I got a ride with my mom, no harm done.” She put her arm around him, patting his shoulder a few times. “What happened?”

“I just overslept.” Jeremy didn’t bother telling her why. He couldn’t believe that he’d gotten to the point where he lost sleep thinking about a boy.  _ What a fucking cliche,  _ he thought. “And my parents didn’t bother waking me up. So I missed algebra, and my teacher wouldn’t give me the work because I didn’t have a ‘lawful absence’, and honestly in that class I need all the help I can get. So…”

Anabelle smiled sympathetically. “Yikes.”

Jeremy was startled into a laugh. “Yeah. Yikes.”

He looked up at the sound of a tray slamming down onto the table. “You good, Jeremy?” Jolene asked. Jeremy hadn’t noticed the others starting to sit down.

“Do I look not good?”

“Not to be rude, but you look exhausted,” said Francis. “You should, like, sleep sometime before rehearsal.”

Jeremy waved his hand at the crowds in the cafeteria. “Do you  _ think  _ I could sleep in here?” As if to prove his point, the table closest to the door broke out in a loud screaming match. Jeremy looked over his shoulder, pretty sure that they were about two steps away from a full-fledged food fight.

Violet scowled, propping her head up on her hands. “I hate this school.” The rest of the table nodded in agreement with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“Hey, Jeremy, if it makes you feel any better, you won’t be the only one exhausted at rehearsal today,” said Michael, gesturing to the other end of the table. 

Jeremy leaned forwards, looking at where he was pointing. It didn’t take a genius to tell that he was referring to Simon - the dark circles under his eyes looked more like bruises. Something in Jeremy’s stomach twisted at the sight of him. “What happened to him?” he wondered out loud.

“Probably the same thing as you,” said Anabelle. “You’d both better hope that you don’t have to do your scene today.”

Jeremy put his head in his hands. “Ugh.”

“Maybe Mr. Mazzu will edit the scene,” said Michael. “Word of Your Body Reprise but instead of confessing their love for each other, Hanschen and Ernst just take a nap.”

“That sounds freaking amazing right now.”

***

Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what to think when Simon said that he had something to tell them. He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear. But it wasn’t  _ that _ . Out of all the bad things that could happen, Simon transferring schools never even crossed Jeremy’s mind.

As Simon turned and left the auditorium, there was nothing Jeremy could do but stare after him. The initial confusion that he had felt at Simon’s announcement had been replaced with dejection, and now that was fading away to become anger. Simon had never said a word about this to anyone, seemingly not even Lilette, judging from the way she stormed after him. He had totally blindsided everyone in this room, all these people who  _ cared _ about him. He was just leaving without a word.

“Okay,” said Mr. Mazzu, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. “Boys, you’re done for the day. Girls, get in your places for Mama Who Bore Me Reprise?”

No one moved.

“Guys, please.”

Slowly, the crowd on the stage began to disperse. Jeremy followed the other guys to the changing room, dressing quickly and avoiding talking to anyone. But he didn’t leave the school building, instead lingering in the hallway outside of the auditorium. He could hear the girls rehearsing inside, but they didn’t seem to have the energy that they typically had. It didn’t seem like a very long time at all before Mr. Mazzu and Ms. Wolfe dismissed them, and the auditorium door flew open.

Anabelle frowned at him. “What are you still doing here?”

“I thought you might need a ride home. Since, you know, you didn’t get one to school this morning. Sorry again.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to apologize for that. But yeah, okay. I’ll text my parents.”

She met him by the door a few minutes later, and they walked out to his car together. Neither of them said a word, and the silence felt almost suffocating. Jeremy desperately wanted to speak, but there was nothing that he would say, nothing that meant anything. He looked away from Anabelle, down at the ground. He could see his reflection in the puddles from the rain that afternoon, the water distorting his image and blurring his face. 

The drive home was just as quiet. Jeremy could almost pretend that he was alone, that it was a normal day, that he could just let the music from the radio drown out his racing thoughts. When the two of them were together, they were usually always talking, laughing, singing along to the songs playing. The silence felt wrong, especially knowing that the reason why was because of a boy, a boy that both of them liked. It felt bad enough not telling Anabelle that he was gay. Not telling her that he was crushing hard on her boyfriend was even worse.

They were about five minutes away from Anabelle’s house when she finally spoke. “Are you okay with it if we don’t go home just yet?”

“Of course,” Jeremy said, trying not to sound too relieved. There was another thing he was keeping from Anabelle - how bad things were at home. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“Wherever is fine,” said Anabelle. “Or you could just drive around. Whatever.”

Jeremy frowned. Anabelle’s voice sounded monotone, devoid of emotion. “You okay?” He instantly realized how stupid of a question it was. “I mean, with Simon and everything -”

“Can we please not talk about him?” Anabelle interrupted. She looked away from Jeremy, staring ahead of her at the road. “Sorry, but I just don’t want to think about that right now.”

_ Thank god.  _ “Alright,” said Jeremy, fighting to keep his face blank. 

The silence returned as they started driving again. Jeremy wasn’t sure where he was going, circling around Stanton, past the school, past the steel mill. Everything felt so familiar about this town. He could find his way around with his eyes closed. And all he wanted was to run away from it all.

“I miss this,” Anabelle said suddenly.

Jeremy looked over at her. The glare of the stoplight washed her face in shades of red. “Hmm?”

“I mean, we never really hang out outside of school anymore,” Anabelle explained. She still wasn’t meeting his eyes. “We drive to school, we drive home. That’s it. We used to do everything together. You’re still my best friend, you have been since elementary school, but I just feel like we’re...not as close as we used to be.”

Jeremy opened his mouth, then shut it again. The whole evening he’d been wanting to speak, but now that he had an opportunity to, he had no idea what to say. “Same,” he said finally. “I miss...us. I don’t know when things changed, but I know they  _ did _ , and…” He was lying. He knew the moment things changed. The exact date, the exact time, the exact reason why. But he shoved that memory as far down as possible, burying it.

Anabelle smiled slightly. “Remember sixth grade? We’d just started middle school, and I hated absolutely everything about it. But you would always tell me to go one more day, and if I was miserable that day then we would run away and go live in the woods. And then after school you’d ask me if it was as bad as I thought it was going to be, and it never was.” She sighed. “I never thought I’d miss that.”

“Same.” The light turned green, but Jeremy didn’t go forwards, instead veering into the parking lot of a grocery store that was closed for the night. And there was that silence again, but it didn’t feel suffocating this time. It felt comfortable just to be here with Anabelle and no one else, remembering what it used to be like.

“Can I tell you something?” They both said it at the same time, and Anabelle grinned at him. “Sorry. Um, you first.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing. “I’ve been keeping this a secret for a while now,” he started awkwardly. He was gripping tightly onto the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “And I probably should have told you earlier, I’m sorry, but I just don’t know how to say it, the only one who knows is Zach and I didn’t even plan on telling him, it just sort of slipped out, it wasn’t great, honestly…”

“Jeremy!” Anabelle put a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. What is it?”

“I…” He breathed in, and then out. “I’m gay.”

Jeremy didn’t look at Anabelle after he said it. He wasn’t sure whether it was fear or relief preventing him from moving. “Oh,” he heard her say. Her hand fell from his shoulder, and Jeremy felt himself freeze up, his hands holding onto the steering wheel tighter. The radio still played softly between them, so softly that he couldn’t recognize the song playing.

And then Anabelle was hugging him. He made a choked, surprised noise, but hugged her back, leaning his head against her shoulder. “Thank you for telling me,” Anabelle said into his ear. Jeremy couldn’t stop himself from smiling, couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. They didn’t break apart until Jeremy caught a glimpse of the time. “Shi-I mean, shoot. We should probably get home.” Anabelle laughed. “What?”

“Nothing. Just...you always refuse to swear. It’s kind of cute.”

“I hear enough swearing from my parents. I don’t want to carry that habit with me.”

Anabelle tilted her head, staring at him. “Is everything alright with them?”

Jeremy stared straight ahead. The road next to them was completely empty, deserted in the dark. “You know how you said that you didn’t want to talk about Simon? I don’t want to talk about them.” 

He could tell that Anabelle wanted to ask, but she didn’t, and he was glad for it. “Okay,” she said. She leaned against the window, looking out at the street. “Let’s go home.”

As they approached the stoplight again, Anabelle reached out, turning up the volume on the radio. Some pop song that had been popular last summer was playing, one of those songs that played everywhere, that rooted into your head and forced you to know the lyrics even if you had no interest in learning them. Jeremy couldn’t help but start to sing along under his breath. He could hear Anabelle join him at the chorus, but neither of them called attention to it. 

It was strange. It was such a small moment, but it felt like everything to Jeremy. It felt like one of the few times that he and Anabelle were together again, the same way they were when they were younger. Back then, they sang at the top of their lungs, not caring who heard them. Now, you had to strain your ears to hear them. But it was a start. It felt like a bridge being built over the rift that had formed between them. It felt like a hand reaching out.

_ Maybe that’s what friendship is,  _ Jeremy thought.  _ A constant cycle of growing together and apart, over and over again.  _

***

Simon’s voice was haunting and beautiful, and Jeremy hated the way that it sent chills down his spine. He’d never thought about how Simon might sound singing Left Behind - he’d never thought he’d even get to hear it, but Robbie was at football practice doing whatever football players did, so here they were. For that moment, Jeremy forgot to be pissed off at Simon. He just listened, and wished that Simon would stay. If not for him, for Anabelle. For all of the troupe.

He made eye contact with Simon twice during the song. The first was fleeting, and Simon looked away quickly. The second time, Simon had nowhere to look but at him. That was when Jeremy saw the tears in his eyes, the determined resolution not to cry. When he saw the look on Simon’s face, the anger evaporated out of Jeremy in an instant. Simon didn’t want to leave. 

Jeremy wanted to comfort him. He wanted to let Simon know that he was there for him, that he always would be. But he couldn’t. Especially not now.

Mr. Mazzu and Ms. Wolfe dismissed them after they finished Left Behind, and Jeremy and Anabelle found themselves in Jeremy’s car again, not speaking. Jeremy could tell that Anabelle was trying not to let him see her cry, but he’d know even if he couldn’t see her how upset she was. He hugged her without saying a word, letting her tears soak his shirt and trying not to let his own tears fall. He knew better than anyone that feelings were a difficult, if not impossible thing to make disappear, but right now he would give up anything to just give up his feelings for Simon. He felt angry, he felt upset, and most of all, he felt guilty, guilty for loving the same boy as his best friend and not having the guts to even tell her about it.

Simon and Anabelle’s relationship could still work out, he told himself. It wasn’t as if Simon was leaving town. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t see each other after school and on the weekends. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t text, or couldn’t Skype. They’d stay together. And Jeremy would be happy for them. He  _ had  _ to be. 

He couldn’t make his feelings for Simon go away. He’d resigned himself to that a long time ago. But he could ignore them. He could bury them like he buried everything else. And sitting there next to Anabelle, seeing how broken-hearted she was, he realized that right now, that was what he had to do. If he didn’t, their friendship could splinter, and he couldn’t handle that. He needed Anabelle, just as she needed him. It would be easy to forget about Simon once he transferred schools. Eventually, sooner rather than later, Jeremy’s feelings for him would just fade away. And everything would be all the better for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: can't sleep (wolves) - WALK THE MOON | SUBURBIA - troye sivan | ribs - lorde  
> find the playlist on spotify (somebody to someone by sparksandshadows) or on my tumblr  
> come talk to me on twitter @annileej or tumblr @glorioussimon!!


	4. if the sun's upset and the sky goes cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shut up, he told his own thoughts. Simon would be gone in a matter of days now, and there was no point in even thinking about him. Not with Anabelle right there, looking at him like that. Looking at him in probably the exact same was that Jeremy looked at him.  
> God, he wished that his brain would just shut off for a few hours.
> 
> or, jeremy fails a test, goes to a party, and attempts to make his thoughts keep quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for panic attacks, starts at "Jeremy attempted to follow what the other guys were saying about the highlights of the game as they walked back to the green room to pick up their things." and ends at "See you."

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:34): So I see that Stanton Drama is singing at the game tomorrow _

**You** _ (7:35): how did you even find out about that _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:35): I follow the school on twitter _

**You** _ (7:36): why _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:36): So I can find out about the latest gossip _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:37): ANYWAY this says that your Simon is singing a solo? _

**You** _ (7:38): he’s not my simon. if he’s anyone’s he’s anabelle’s _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:39): Wtf does that mean _

**You** _ (7:40): when he stood me up for the study session he went on a date with her _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:42): You’re actually kidding me _

**You** _ (4:42): no that’s what happened _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:43): Are you okay? _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:21): So that’s a no _

***

“No,” Mrs. Robinson said before Jeremy had even spoken a word.

Jeremy frowned. “I didn’t even ask -”

Robinson jerked her head at the paper in Jeremy’s hand. “No need,” she said. “You got that grade for a reason, Travers. You can’t miss my class without consequences.”

“I was...it only happened once,” Jeremy said, trying to keep his voice level. “I promise it won’t happen again. I’m not even asking for extra credit, if I can just retake the test…”

“I don’t offer recovery. You know that.” She didn’t even look at him as she was speaking, still focused on whatever it was on her computer. “Sorry, but that’s your grade. If you want it to get better next time, stay focused and get to class on time.”

Jeremy wanted to argue, but as soon as he opened his mouth, every word in his head seemed to evaporate. His hand that was holding the paper fell to his side and he nodded, staring at the tiles on the floor. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure what he was thanking her for. She didn’t even acknowledge him as he turned to leave the classroom, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall outside, staring at the slightly crumpled test in his hand. He’d been avoiding looking at it since he’d gotten it, but now he studied it more carefully. It was more red ink than white paper, especially the circled fifty-one percent at the top of it. 

“Hi,” said a voice next to him. Jeremy jumped, crushing the paper in his hand. Anabelle gave him a funny look. “Calm down,” she said. “It’s just me. What happened there?” She gestured towards the test.

Jeremy frowned. “I missed  _ one day  _ of class and apparently that doomed me to fail. And I’m not allowed to do any extra credit or retake the test, so…” He sighed, tilting his head back against the bricks.

“Hey,” said Anabelle, punching his shoulder lightly. He turned his head to look at her. “You’ll be okay. It’s just one test, and you’re smart, you’ll do well enough on other tests to bump your grade up.”

“Maybe. If my-” He cut himself off, looking down at the floor.  _ If my parents find this, I don’t know what I’ll do. What  _ they’ll  _ do. _

“Nevermind,” Jeremy murmured. “Let’s just go. Sorry for freaking out.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Anabelle frowned, her brows furrowing. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He’d hide the test. Keep it buried in his backpack, leave it in his locker, burn it if he had to. It was better than whatever the alternative was.

He found his mind drifting to Zach. Academics had never been his strong suit - he was best at athletics (and theatre, even if he refused to acknowledge it). Jeremy remembered dozens of times when Zach had been bent over his homework for hours on end, struggling to make sense of it. Jeremy had tried to help as best as he could, but his ten-year-old self couldn’t do much. But Zach’s stress about schoolwork came from the threat of being kicked off of the basketball team if he failed - not their parents’ reactions. They’d never seemed to really care what Zach did, but with Jeremy, they constantly had their eyes on him, looking for anything negative, anything that could possibly damage their reputations. Jeremy wasn’t sure where the divide between them began, or why it had even come to be. He didn’t know what made him so different from his brother. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it proved that his parents actually gave a shit about him, that they were worried about his future. Or maybe that was a lie he told himself to force himself to pretend that everything was okay.

Anabelle waved a hand in front of his face, and Jeremy blinked, looking up. “Are you still here?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” Jeremy stood up straighter, shifting the weight of his backpack onto his other shoulder. “Let’s go.”

***

Jeremy tried to stop himself from even looking at Simon during the game, but it was as though they were magnets with opposite poles. The instant that he heard his voice, he couldn’t help but turn his head, his eyes drawn to the other boy. Simon looked genuinely happy standing there, the setting sun illuminating his dark eyes and his sharp jaw. Jeremy could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

_ No,  _ he told himself, turning his eyes back to the bleachers.  _ That’s not a thing anymore.  _ Part of him couldn’t wait for Simon to leave, couldn’t wait to not have to have his thoughts drift to him every time he saw him out of the corner of his eye, every time he heard him speak. Then he looked over at Anabelle and saw the look on her face as she stared at Simon, and instantly felt disgusted with himself for thinking it at all.

Jeremy attempted to get Anabelle’s attention as the troupe made their way to their seats in the bleachers, but she didn’t even look at him.  _ Don’t be bitter,  _ he thought.  _ Her boyfriend’s transferring schools in a few days. Let her have her time with him. _

He focused on the game instead of them, but got confused quickly - much more quickly than he expected.

**You** _ (7:21): i just realized how little i know about football _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:23): I wish I could help but I’ve only ever touched one kind of ball in my life _

**You** _ (7:23): thanks for sharing _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:23): fuck I mean I play basketball not football. Why do I always do this Jeremy _

**You** _ (7:25): we have the football _

**You** _ (7:27): oh we lost the football _

**You** _ (7:30): someone was tackled. this is so sad alexa play despacito _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:31): Not that this isn’t interesting but don’t you have friends to talk to instead of liveblogging the game to me _

**You** _ (7:33): anabelle is sitting with simon and i don’t really want to get in the way _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:34): You should go get your man  _

**You** _ (7:34): no he’s leaving soon anyway _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:36): Where is he going? _

**You** _ (7:37): he’s transferring to st. francis _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:37): WHAT _

**You** _ (7:38): oh gtg they just scored a goal _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:38): Okay that’s literally the worst way of getting out of talking about your feelings that you’ve ever used I know that even you know that they don’t score goals in football _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:39): Not American football anyway _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:39): (I think?) _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:40): Anyway I won’t make you talk about it I’ll just give you some brotherly advice: actually talk to him before he leaves. Get closure. Otherwise you’ll just hate yourself _

Jeremy felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped, shutting his phone off and turning to face Violet. “Hey,” she said. “Are you going to Robbie’s party tomorrow?”

Jeremy frowned. “Robbie’s - wait, what?”

“Robbie’s party,” Violet repeated. “Simon invited Anabelle who invited Harmony…” She looked over her shoulder at the rest of the troupe. “And it just sort of went down the line, I guess. So, are you going?”

“Uh, sure, yeah.” Jeremy forced himself to smile. “Sounds fun.”

Violet grinned. “Great.” She turned back to her conversation with Francis, and Jeremy picked up his phone again, typing out a text.

**You** _ (7:43): apparently i’m going to a party tomorrow that he will also be at _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:44): Make your move! Shoot your shot! _

**You** _ (7:44): ugh _

***

Jeremy attempted to follow what the other guys were saying about the highlights of the game as they walked back to the green room to pick up their things. “Coach is going to be pissed,” Clark was saying. “I mean, we should have had that game.”

Michael frowned. “What was going on with Robbie tonight? He seemed...off.” 

“His head really wasn’t in the game,” Simon said. “No one make a High School Musical reference,” he added after a second. Clark closed his mouth, shooting a glare at him. “And on that note, I’m leaving.” Simon picked up his bag from where it sat next to the door. “You guys are all going to Robbie’s party tomorrow, right?” Jeremy could hear the other boys agreeing, but he didn’t say a word, turning away from Simon and going to the other side of the room to get his things. “Cool. See you then.” Jeremy could hear his footsteps down the hallway as he left, could hear the others following behind him a few moments later. He moved deliberately slowly, not wanting to risk encountering Simon as they left. Eventually he stood up, picking up his backpack and walking towards the door. 

“Hey, Jeremy?” Jeremy jumped, he hadn’t even realized that Francis was still in the room. “I think you dropped something.”

Jeremy turned around, seeing a folded up piece of paper on the ground. He must have left one of the pockets in his bag open and not realized it. “Oh. Thanks,” he said. He stooped down, picking it up. Of  _ course  _ it was the algebra test from earlier. A reminder of that was just what he needed right now. He stood up, moving to put it in his pocket - maybe he would forget about it and it would get destroyed in the washing machine - before he saw the blue ink scrawled on the back of it. He frowned and unfolded it, flipping it over.  _ I will be emailed your parents. Do  _ _ not _ _ let this happen again.  _ Mrs. Robinson’s signature was written beneath, a scribble of blue ink.

He heard Francis say his name, but he could hardly make out his voice over the pounding of his own heart. He reached out but couldn’t catch a grip on anything, slowly beginning to feel himself falling. The paper fell out of his hands as his back hit the wall. He couldn’t stop shaking, a cold feeling spreading over his entire body. 

“Jeremy?” He forced himself to look up at Francis. He had moved to sit in front of him, but Jeremy could hardly see him. He wasn’t sure whether his vision was blurring from panic or from tears. “Jeremy, you’re going to be okay.”

“No,” Jeremy said, his voice hoarse. He felt like he was being choked, like he couldn’t breathe at all. “No, I…”

“You just have to breathe, alright? In for two, then out for two. Repeat after me.” Jeremy wasn’t sure how long it took for him to finally let out a breath. “Good. Just...just keep doing that, okay? Keep breathing. You’re going to be fine.”

Even after the panic attack subsided, Jeremy kept his head down, not meeting Francis’s eyes. “Have you ever had a panic attack before?” Francis asked him. 

Jeremy shook his head. “No. Never.” He winced at the sound of his own voice, sounding croaky and grating. 

Francis pressed a bottle of water into his hand. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy took a sip, trying to gather his thoughts. “How...how did you know what to do?”

“About panic attacks, you mean?” said Francis. “I have them too. Not as much as I used to - after my dad died, I had them all the time - but yeah.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t known that about Francis - he didn’t know much about Francis at all. They had hardly ever even talked outside of rehearsal.

Jeremy wasn’t sure how long they just sat there on the floor, not speaking to each other. Finally, Francis’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. “That’s my mom,” he said, looking down at the screen. “She could give you a ride, if you need one?”

Jeremy shook his head. “No. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Francis stood up, picking up his bag on the other side of the room. He paused as he got to the door, turning around to look at Jeremy. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be okay,” Jeremy said. He stood up, and, after a moment, picked up his test off of the floor. He stared down at it for a while, making sure that Mrs. Robinson’s note was on the side facing the floor.

“Um, sorry if I wasn’t supposed to see that,” Francis said, gesturing to the test. “I’d offer to help you out with the grade, but I’m kind of awful when it comes to math…”

“No, it’s fine.” Jeremy folded up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. “Thanks, though. Not just for offering to help with math.”

Francis caught onto what he meant immediately. “Anytime.”

They walked out to the front doors together, splitting up when they reached the parking lot. “Are you going to Robbie’s party tomorrow?” Francis asked him just before he left. Jeremy made a face, and Francis grinned. “Not really a party person, I’m guessing?”

“Ugh. Not really, but everyone else is going, so I just feel like I should.”

Francis nodded. “Cool. See you then?”

“See you.”

***

The party wasn’t awful at first. Jeremy had been to a few before, Anabelle usually dragging him out with her, and this one wasn’t terrible, as far as parties went. He got a drink (soda - his parents did enough drinking for the whole family, he figured), talked to a few people. He hadn’t seen Anabelle anywhere, which was out of character for her - she never missed a party. He texted her a few times, but didn’t get a response.

Jeremy was standing alone in the hallway, not far from the front door, when he saw her. He saw Simon first, walking in with Lilette. He looked nice in that sweater, Jeremy thought. He didn’t know what was so striking about it - sweaters and collared shirts made up about ninety percent of Simon’s wardrobe, as far as Jeremy could see - but something about Simon felt different today. Or maybe it was just that they were in a different place, separated by a small crowd, and Jeremy was willing to let himself look. 

And then Anabelle appeared, and the spell was broken.

Jeremy raised a hand, trying to wave to her, or maybe both her and Simon, but they seemed too wrapped up in their conversation to even acknowledge that he even existed. Anabelle dragged Simon away without even looking in Jeremy’s direction, although he was  _ sure  _ that Simon had seen him, even if it was only for an instant -

_ Shut up,  _ he told his own thoughts. Simon would be gone in a matter of days now, and there was no point in even thinking about him. Not with Anabelle right there, looking at him like that. Looking at him in probably the exact same was that Jeremy looked at him.

God, he wished that his brain would just shut off for a few hours.

***

“Hey, Jeremy?”

Okay, Simon talking directly to him was  _ not  _ helping with the whole repress-your-feelings deal Jeremy had made with himself.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “God, you scared me. What’s up?”

“Um, do you know where Anabelle lives?” Simon asked awkwardly. “She’s kind of...passed out?”

Internally, Jeremy rolled his eyes.  _ Of course she is.  _ “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I can drive her home, if you need me to. I haven’t been drinking.”

Simon smiled, and, against his will, Jeremy’s heart did cartwheels. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Jeremy couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face, the feeling of Simon being so close to him, actually talking to him. “I can give you a ride too, if you need one,” he added.  _ Wait, no,  _ he thought.  _ What are you saying? You don’t want to do that.  _ “I mean, my curfew isn’t until eleven-thirty, so…”  _ You don’t even  _ have  _ a fucking curfew! _

But Simon was smiling at him again, and he felt that swooping feeling in his stomach again, and damn if it didn’t feel good. “That would be great. Thank you.”

They didn’t speak to each other as they managed to get Anabelle out the door, and didn’t even look at each other as Jeremy drove them to her house. As they slowed to a stop, Jeremy reached back, jostling Anabelle’s foot. “Hey,” he said. She mumbled something, but didn’t stir. He turned around, seeing her sprawled out in the backseat. “ _ Hey, _ ” he said, louder this time. “Your parents are home.”

She jolted awake. “Wh-what?”

“No. They’re not,” said Jeremy. “But mine are, so I can’t really offer you a place to stay tonight. So go inside and drink some water and get some sleep and text me when you wake up so I know you’re alive. Okay?”

“Okay,” he heard Anabelle mutter. He watched as she got out of the car, fumbling with her house key and waving at him once she got in the house. Simon was watching her too, Jeremy could tell. When Jeremy looked over at him, he could see that his eyes were glazed over, an indiscernible expression on his face. “Hey,” he said.

Simon jumped. “What?”

“What’s your address?”

Simon told him, and they set off again, Jeremy careful not to let his eyes drift over to the boy in the passenger seat. It felt distinctly different with just the two of them in the car, despite the fact that when Anabelle had been with them, it had been just as silent as it was now. Jeremy tried not to think about it, tried to pretend that it was just a normal drive on a normal Saturday night, but Zach’s text from the previous day kept coming back into his head.  _ Actually talk to him before he leaves. Get closure. Otherwise you’ll just hate yourself. _

“Thanks for taking me,” Simon said into the silence as they stopped in his driveway. “And for helping Anabelle get home.” 

“Of course,” Jeremy replied. “I mean, you didn’t need to call a cab.” Simon grinned slightly to himself, and that was what did it. His stupid fucking smile.

“Hey, Simon,” Jeremy said as Simon started to get out of the car.  _ Hey Zach, you’re wrong,  _ he thought.  _ Maybe I’ll hate myself more if I talk to him than I will if I don’t. _

Simon turned around. “Yeah?”

“You’re...not just a good singer,” Jeremy said. “I mean, you are a really, really, good singer, but…” ‘Good singer’ seemed like an understatement. There were no words for the way that Simon’s voice made him feel, no real way to express the thoughts it generated in his mind. “You’re also a great actor. I mean, doing those scenes with you, it’s...I mean, sometimes I forget that that wasn’t real. You know?”

He wished he could forget that it wasn’t real. He wished that he could pretend, just for those few minutes on stage, that he was Simon’s and Simon was his. That they could be together without thinking about what anyone else would say, about how anyone else would feel. That maybe Simon actually cared about him in the same way that Jeremy did.

But that was all it was. Acting.

“Thanks,” Simon said. Jeremy couldn’t read the inflection in his voice, couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Yeah, uh, me too.”

“We’re all gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna miss you too.”

Jeremy wanted to kiss him. The feeling hit him like a bolt of lightning, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. If he were to do it, to just lean forwards and capture Simon’s lips with his own, would Simon run away? Or would he melt into the kiss, reciprocating Jeremy’s feelings, reaching out to touch Jeremy’s hand, his shoulder, his cheek?

And there it was. The wanting. The feeling that had been trying to deny for days now, and now he realized that he just  _ couldn’t.  _ Because you couldn’t just deny something like that, you couldn’t repress it. Every time he saw Simon it just came back, fiercer and fiercer, and he couldn’t just force it away anymore. No matter how terrible of a friend it made him. He was into Simon. He had a crush. Or maybe more. It felt like more.

But that didn’t matter any longer. Because Simon was gone. Transferring schools, orbiting in an entirely different solar system now. This tiny moment in the front seat of Jeremy’s car was the last moment that they would share together. Jeremy watching Simon walk away was the last time he would really, truly see him.

Jeremy blinked the tears out of his eyes and put his car in reverse, heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: next in line - WALK THE MOON | waves - dean lewis | so close - andrew mcmahon in the wilderness  
> (also, this song doesn't have much to do with the fic, but i was listening to starlight by jai wolf as i wrote the last scene in this chapter)  
> come talk to me on twitter @annileej and tumblr @glorioussimon!!!


	5. and if you feel the great dividing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Part of Jeremy expected - or more like hoped - not to notice a difference, but he should have known that there would be. All of the places that Simon used to fill, both in physical space and in Jeremy’s head, felt so empty."  
> or, jeremy has some thoughts on quite a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wasn't supposed to be as sad as it is i'm sorry  
> tw for emotional abuse from "It was cold outside, but the inside of the house felt so much colder." to "Jeremy couldn't move fast enough."  
> tw for brief mention of physical abuse from "They didn't. They never have before." to "and then he would finally be free from all of it, free from his parents, free from Stanton, free to be whoever he wanted."  
> ALSO: it might take a little longer than usual to write chapter 6 because i'm on vacation next week but i'll try my best to update as soon as possible!!

**Dad** _ (3:34): I need to speak with you. _

***

Jeremy was staring at the text, but his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was on Simon. 

Yesterday, Monday, was his first day at St. Francis. The first day that he hadn’t been at Stanton, at rehearsal like every other day. Part of Jeremy expected - or more like hoped - not to notice a difference, but he should have known that there would be. All of the places that Simon used to fill, both in physical space and in Jeremy’s head, felt so empty. 

“Hey,” Jolene said.

Jeremy shut his phone off quickly, shoving it into his bag. “Um, hi.”

“Got a second?”

“Sure.” Anything that could delay going home for a few more minutes. Anything to prevent him from staring at that text, reading it over and over again and it still not sinking in. “What’s up?”

He jumped at the sound of Jolene’s math textbook hitting the floor in front of him. She sat down, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. “So, I heard about your…” She waved a hand at the textbook. “Issues, and being a rare gay who can actually do math, I’m going to help you out, out of the goodness of my heart.”

Jeremy frowned. “Um...sorry, how did you…?”

“Find out? Francis mentioned it at lunch today. You were literally sitting across from us. He was looking _ right _ at you.”

“Did he?” Jeremy frowned, trying to remember what he was doing at lunch. Had he fallen asleep? He had almost definitely fallen asleep. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep that much last night, so I was kind of spaced out…what exactly did he say?”

Jolene pointed her pencil at him. “First of all: you, sir, need a better sleep schedule. We were talking about Mrs. Robinson and how much of a bitch she is, and he mentioned how she screwed you over by not giving you the work.” She flipped to the table of contents. “So, what are you having trouble with?”

“Uh…” Jeremy didn’t think that  _ everything  _ would be the right thing to say. “The test that I just bombed was on logarithms?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re kind of a pain in the ass, but you really just need to nail the formulas. Did she give you that sheet…” She trailed off upon seeing the blank look on Jeremy’s face. “Right. Of course she didn’t. Here.” She turned the page. “Right. So, it’s like this…”

***

Jeremy got home almost an hour after he usually did, and he almost let himself believe that it was a long enough time that his father would forget about whatever she needed to talk to him about. But when he looked through his car window as he drove up to the house, he could see the lights in the kitchen turned on, his dad’s silhouette slumped at the counter. If he squinted, he could see the bottle of beer clenched tightly in his fist. His heart sank. It was bad enough talking to him when he  _ wasn’t _ under the influence - not that that was very often. Jeremy’s mind instantly went to the test, buried in his desk drawer under layers of folders and sheet music and rolled-up posters. He remembered the message on the back, scrawled there in smudged blue ink, and felt his breathing quicken. 

He stopped the car just before he pulled into the driveway, turning off the headlights and leaning his head on the steering wheel. He couldn’t have another panic attack. He couldn’t go through that alone. He wouldn’t. He glanced up at the window, seeing his dad still bent over the table. The sun had already set, and with the car lights turned off, his father probably wouldn’t be able to see him. He could buy a few more minutes.

His phone buzzed, and he reached out, picking it up off of the passenger seat.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:39): Hey do you want to rabbit a movie tonight? _

Jeremy stared at the text for a few moments, feeling his breathing even out. Good. That was good. It was a distraction. It was something to look forward to. It was a light at the end of the tunnel.

He quickly typed back a response.

**You** _ (7:42): sounds good _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:43): :-D _

It was cold outside, but somehow, the inside of the house felt colder. For a split second, Jeremy thought about just sneaking past the kitchen and going up to his room, but he knew that whenever his dad actually found him, it would make whatever ‘talk’ they were about to have so much worse. He set his backpack down by the door and stepped forwards so that he could see into the kitchen. “Dad?”

“Jeremy.” He was slurring his name. Depending on exactly how much he’d drunk, that could make this better or so much worse. Jeremy leaned against the doorframe, but didn’t walk into the room, not wanting to be any closer to his father than he had to. He waited for him to say it, to mention the test, the email.

He didn’t.

“You got home late today.” He stood up, slamming his beer onto the counter, and stalked up to Jeremy. Jeremy folded his arms across his chest, not looking his dad in the eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was working on some homework with a friend.” It wasn’t a complete lie. It wasn’t a lie at all, actually. So why did his dad’s glare make him feel like everything he said was untrue, like everything he thought was completely wrong?

Jeremy’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he jumped, flinching away from his father. He just moved closer again, and Jeremy’s heart slammed against his ribcage. “Who’s that from?” Jeremy fished his phone out of his pocket, trying to keep his hands from shaking. 

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:49): What time? _

“It’s Zach,” said Jeremy. “We were going to watch a movie tonight.”

His father laughed without humor. “Give me your phone.” 

“What?”

“Give me your phone.” When Jeremy didn’t immediately hand it over, he yanked it out of his hands, hard. Jeremy winced as the sides of his case scraped against his skin. “You were lying, weren’t you? Making plans with one of your friends to sneak out, skip school, whatever.” He didn’t even look at the screen, instead slamming the phone down on the counter. Jeremy flinched at the loud noise, expecting it to shatter, but it stayed intact. 

“Sorry,” Jeremy whispered. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for. He crossed his arms again, trying to make himself smaller. 

His dad didn’t even give any indication of hearing him. “You know why your brother is so successful?” Jeremy didn’t respond, but his father kept on talking anyway. “He did something that actually got him noticed. His basketball, that’s what got him into college. This...theatre, sure, you’re having fun. But where’s it going to get you? Do you want to disappoint your mother and I? Do you want to be the son that never got into college, never got a good life? What would that do to our family, our reputation?” He raised his hand, and Jeremy closed his eyes, waiting for it, but it never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw his father slumped at the counter again, taking a large sip of beer. “I’ll be keeping your phone for the night,” he muttered. “Go to your room.”

Jeremy couldn’t move fast enough.

***

“Jeremy.”

Someone was throwing something at him. He lifted his head up off the table. “What?” He looked around. “Are you throwing bread at me?”

“See?” Jolene told Francis. “He’s always sleeping at lunch.”

“I’m not a pigeon,” said Jeremy. “Stop throwing bread at me.”

“You have crumbs in your hair,” Anabelle told him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jeremy turned his attention back to the rest of the table. “So. Why were you throwing bread at me?”

“Jolene wanted to wake you up. Francis was enabling her,” Violet said. 

“Francis was not enabling,” Francis said. “Francis was a casual bystander.” 

“It’s pieces of Francis’s sandwich that are  _ being thrown _ .”

Anabelle looked over at Jeremy. “At least you didn’t oversleep again today, right?”

“Yeah. Didn’t have to deal with Mrs. Robinson, which is always a plus.”

Anabelle frowned at him. “What’s making you lose so much sleep, anyway?”

Jeremy shrugged, not looking her directly in the eyes. He wasn’t going to tell her about any of it. He wasn’t going to tell  _ anyone _ about any of it. Not about how he stayed awake long after the clock struck midnight, staring at his bedroom door, terrified that his father would come stalking in and continue what had started in the kitchen. Not about how he had gotten up at dawn, tired of trying to fall asleep and failing, and snuck past his dad, who had fallen asleep at the dining room table with his drink still in his hand, and just driven around Stanton until school started. 

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jeremy pulled it out of his bag, staring at the screen. “What the hell, Zach?”

Anabelle glanced at his phone. “Wait, what? What does he want?”

“My phone...died last night, I didn’t get a chance to text him back. I guess he just couldn’t wait.” He stood up, waving at the rest of the table. “Bye, guys. I’m going to go yell at my brother.” Violet, Francis, and Jolene didn’t acknowledge him, too caught up in their bread discourse to hear. 

Jeremy ducked into the bathroom next to the cafeteria, which was thankfully empty, and pressed the accept call button. “I’m at school,” he hissed.

“You’re at lunch,” Zach corrected him. “Phones are still allowed at lunch, right?”

“Unless you’re looking at porn or something, yeah.” Jeremy leaned back against the wall, narrowing avoiding setting off the hand dryer. “What’s up?”

“You never texted me back last night, that’s what’s up.” 

Jeremy sighed. “Seriously? Could this not have waited until later? Or you couldn’t have texted?”

“Well, sorry, but I was  _ worried _ . When you don’t respond, it’s usually because you’ve gotten your phone taken away.”

“Maybe the battery just ran out.”

“And  _ there’s  _ the buzzword,” Zach drawled. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do  _ anything _ !” Jeremy snapped. 

Zach didn’t say a word. All that Jeremy could hear was the faint sound of static coming through his phone speakers. “I went to rehearsal,” Jeremy said softly. “I came home. And that was all that it took.”

“Hey,” Zach said slowly. “What exactly happened?” Jeremy didn’t answer, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want to cry. He couldn’t. “Jeremy,  _ please _ tell me. If they hurt you…”

“They didn’t _.  _ They never have before.”  _ Not that I’d tell you.  _ Jeremy’s parents hadn’t hit him in years, but even if it happened again, he would never tell Zach about it. He’d overreact. He’d want to do something about it. But there was nothing he could do, nothing that could possibly fix it. Jeremy just had to survive two more years of it, two more years of this shit, and then he would finally be free from all of it, free from his parents, free from Stanton, free to be whoever he wanted. “It was Dad,” he said. “He was drunk - I don’t know how drunk, but definitely drunk. He was talking about...about you, actually. About how you’re the successful son, about how I’m not focused enough, about how theatre isn’t going to get me anywhere in life and I’m destined to drag down their reputation. You know, all the usual stuff.”

“I…” Jeremy heard Zach start speaking, then stop abruptly. His voice sounded stilted when he spoke again. “Have you ever talked to them about it?”

Jeremy shook his head, then remembered that Zach couldn’t see him. “No. I...I can’t. They wouldn’t listen, it would only make things worse.”

“You don’t  _ know _ that,” Zach argued. “You need to stop being a coward and just talk to them!”

Jeremy was silent for a moment, then - “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Zach’s voice sounded deflated. “Jeremy, that’s not what I meant -”

“How else could I  _ possibly _ take that?” A tear rolled down Jeremy’s cheek before he could stop it. “You know how they are. You know what they would do if I talked to them like that!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry -”

“Or maybe you don’t,” Jeremy continued, not even acknowledging what Zach had said. “They didn’t talk to you like they talk to me. They hardly talked to you at all. They didn’t give enough of a shit about you to even acknowledge that you existed until you did something to boost their precious reputation!”

As soon as he said it, Jeremy felt his stomach turn. He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t meant to go that far.

“Jeremy.” Zach sounded startled, but above all, he sounded angry, he sounded cold.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Jeremy!”

Jeremy hung up on him and dropped his phone on the ground, burying his head in his hands.

***

Someone was snapping their fingers in front of Jeremy’s face. He looked up, pulling his earbuds out of his ears. “What’s up?”

“Dude, rehearsal’s starting,” Clark said.

Jeremy frowned, glancing at the clock on his phone.  _ 3:30.  _ He usually didn’t let himself space out like that before rehearsal, he was always on time. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. We’re working on My Junk with the band again, so we’re probably not going to get much done anyway.”

Jeremy made a face. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

Okay, maybe one thing was good about today - whatever the band had done in the few days since they last rehearsed together, it definitely paid off. They actually worked together, their voices melding with the music instead of fighting against it. Jeremy felt a smile forming on his face for the first time since he had talked to Zach. He heard the auditorium door open, but ignored it, too caught up in the music. He didn’t look over until he heard Lilette’s gasp, and then he turned, following her gaze.

God, had Simon always been that beautiful? Or had Jeremy just forgotten?

And then suddenly, everything felt complete. For that one moment, Jeremy was able to forget about all the other crap that had happened over the past few days and just focus on the music, on the people he cared about on stage with him, on the boy he couldn’t deny that he had a crush on anymore. He couldn’t help but smile when Simon sang his solo, and when Simon looked over his shoulder at him, the butterflies in his stomach increased tenfold. Simon had never looked at him like that before, not with that kind of smile on his face, not with that kind of spark in his dark eyes. It made Jeremy wonder. It made him think:  _ maybe.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: wherever i go - onerepublic | sink in - amy shark | aquaman - WALK THE MOON  
> come talk to me on tumblr @glorioussimon and twitter @annileej!!


	6. i don't even need to change the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He went quiet for a second, and then said, “Do you think that anyone can ever be truly happy with who they are?”
> 
> or, jeremy has a pretty good day, all things considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is kind of short but it has the parking lot scene so i think that makes up for it  
> also!! still on vacation (i wrote a good chunk of this chapter on the skyride at busch gardens lmao) but i'll do my best to upload chapter 7 soon!!!

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** (9:48):  _ Will you please pick up the phone? _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** (9:51):  _ We really need to talk _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** (9:54):  _ It’s been almost a week, I want to know if you’re alright _

***

Jeremy had shut his phone off and the room was silent, in that kind of silence that only exists at one in the morning. He couldn’t stop thinking - about his parents, about Zach, about Spring Awakening. About Simon.

It was such a small thing to be worried about. He had never expected himself to be the kind of person to lose sleep over a crush, to have someone constantly inhabiting a place in his head, constantly orbiting his thoughts. But he’d never met anyone like Simon before. 

It started off as something so miniscule. Jeremy had first seen Simon on the first day of freshman year, just as they were walking into the school. He had never seen him before, but the sight of him then, laughing out loud at something Lilette had said, had made his heart stutter. The smile had seemed to light up the boy’s entire face. Jeremy had expected the memory of it to fade by lunchtime, and it might have if Simon hadn’t been in his third-period history class. Jeremy couldn’t help but sneak glances at him during class, taking in his dark eyes, his soft hair, his sharp jaw. Back then, Jeremy had thought it would be nothing - Simon Saunders was just the cute guy in US History freshman year, and that was all that he would ever be to Jeremy. But ever-so-slowly, things started to change. The attraction became a crush. The crush became something... else. Something that felt bigger. And with all of the lingering glances that Simon sent at him, with the electricity present between them every time they rehearsed their scene, it was hard to imagine that Simon didn’t feel the same way about him. 

All that Jeremy wanted to do was text Zach. He was the only one that he could think of to talk to about this, the only one that could possibly have a clue as to what Jeremy could do in this situation. Jeremy reached out to pick up his phone from the nightstand, very nearly turning it on and typing out a text, but stopped himself, pulling back his hand as if he had burned it. He couldn’t text him, at least not right now, not after the things that Jeremy had said to him - no, that they had said to each other. Sure, they’d argued before - what siblings hadn’t? - but it had never gone that far. They had never let it. Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder if the damage that it had done to their relationship was irreparable, if anything would ever be the same between them. 

Missing Zach was like missing a limb, Jeremy thought. He could talk to him about things that he never spoke to anyone else about.

It was strange. Jeremy knew that he still had friends, still had people that cared about him, but losing his brother made him feel more lonely than he ever had in his life. 

*******

Jeremy hadn’t planned on what occurred the next afternoon. It just sort of happened.

He had stopped before he left to ask his last-period teacher a question about the homework, and by the time he’d finished speaking with her, the hallways were nearly empty. It was a stark difference from how Stanton High typically was at the end of the school day, the students in the halls loud and rowdy. Jeremy was glad for the silence. It gave him time to think that he usually never had at this time of day. 

He thought that he might have been the only student left in the school, but as he turned the corner towards the doors leading out into the parking lot, he saw someone else, someone who he could recognize any day, in any context. “Hey, Simon, wait up,” he called before he lost his nerve.

“Hey,” Simon said as he caught up to him. “Look, uh, I gotta get home…”

“Yeah, I know,” said Jeremy. He hesitated before he spoke next, his heart feeling like it was beating out of his chest. “But am I crazy?” He was really about to say it. He was about to actually tell Simon what he felt. “I mean, tell me if I’m crazy, but I thought you and I...had something.”

Surprisingly, the world didn’t explode. Nothing even felt different after Jeremy said those words. His heart still pounded. His mouth still felt dry. The only thing that seemed to change was the expression on Simon’s face, the flicker that went through his eyes as he fought to keep his face blank. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“You sure?” Jeremy asked. Instantly, he wanted to kick himself - he wasn’t sure exactly what to say in this situation, but that definitely felt  _ wrong _ . “I mean, it’s okay if we don’t,” he said quickly, trying to correct himself. “We can be friends.” 

“Yeah, we’re friends. What else would we be?” Simon kept on walking as he spoke, barely even turning around to acknowledge Jeremy. “But right now, you’re acting kind of creepy.”

Jeremy’s heart seemed to drop like a stone.  _ He doesn’t mean it,  _ he told himself, but he had a hard time believing it. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Good night, Simon.” He was already trying to rationalize the idea with himself in his head - Simon and Anabelle would get together, officially this time, and Jeremy would be happy for them, he’d force himself to be. They’d kiss during the show and there would be nothing behind it. Neither of them would ever mention this conversation to anyone. Maybe one day Simon would forget all about it. But Jeremy knew that he wouldn’t. 

“That’s not what I…” he heard Simon say, and turned around quickly. Simon was standing by his car door, eyes wide, an expression that Jeremy couldn’t quite decipher on his face. Jeremy realized that one side of his hair was sticking up, but couldn’t bring himself to bother to fix it, too transfixed on Simon as he spoke. “It’s just lately you - you’ve been…” Simon hesitated, something similar to a nervous laugh crossing over his features. “You’re trying to get me to run lines with you, and - and hang out with you, and talk to you. And I can’t. You know, I just - _can’t_.” Simon seemed to spit out the last few words, and Jeremy felt a pang of emotion somewhere in his gut. _Can’t?_ he wondered. _Or won’t?_

“Look, this is hard for me, too, okay?” Jeremy said. “It’s not like I  _ do  _ this -”

“I don’t know what you want!” Simon interrupted him. 

“I want you to be  _ honest _ !” Jeremy retorted, stepping closer to him. He could feel Simon’s eyes tracking his every move. “Do you feel something when you’re with me? Do you feel this, right now?”

They were so close. Simon’s eyes were boring into his, and then they were glancing down at his lips, and then, all of a sudden, Jeremy was kissing him. 

The kiss didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, but it still sent sparks down Jeremy’s spine. He pulled away from the kiss quickly, but Simon followed him, connecting their lips once again. Jeremy moved his hand up to Simon’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

It was simultaneously perfect and imperfect. Jeremy had never been this close to someone before, and he could feel the heat radiating off of Simon’s body, Simon’s nose pressing into his cheek. He could feel Simon’s wanting in every movement, and he was willing to bet that Simon felt the same from him. Here, with Simon, he felt safer, more  _ whole  _ than he had in weeks. He wanted more. He wanted to move even closer, to touch Simon more, to…

Abruptly, Simon broke away. “I have to go,” he said quickly, climbing into his car. Jeremy stumbled backwards onto the sidewalk, watching as Simon drove away. His mind couldn’t form a single coherent thought.

_ What did I just do? _

***

The next time that Zach Skyped him, that night around eight, Jeremy answered, not even thinking about it before he pressed the accept call button. The instant he realized what he had done, he scrambled for his phone, trying to turn it off before…

Zach’s face appeared on the screen. Jeremy could tell exactly where he was - sitting at his desk in his apartment, piles of dirty clothes on the floor behind him, along with stacks of books and Mikey’s dog bed. Mikey himself was nowhere to be seen. 

Zach cleared his throat, drawing Jeremy’s attention back to him. “Why haven’t you been answering me?” he asked quietly.

Jeremy swallowed, not meeting Zach’s eyes. “Because I don’t know how to say how sorry I am.”

“Sorry?” Zach frowned at him. “What are you sorry for?”

“What do you mean, what am I sorry for?” Jeremy said. “I was a complete jerk. I should never have said...what I said to you. You didn’t deserve that. No one does.” 

Zach smirked. “It was all true, anyway. You’re forgiven.”

Jeremy frowned. “But -”

“Dude, it’s fine. Trust me,” Zach said. “I should be apologizing to you. You’re not a coward, Jeremy.” Jeremy shrugged, and Zach scowled at him. “You’re  _ not _ . You were right, they don’t treat me like they treat you. I’ve never been in your position. I don’t have the right to judge what you do about it.”

“Exactly,” said Jeremy. “And I’ve never been in  _ your  _ position, which is why I’m such a jerk for saying those things about you.”

Zach threw his hands up. “Fine. We’re both jerks. Is that a good compromise?”

“I guess.”

“Good.” For a moment, it was silent between them, but it didn’t feel awkward. It never did. “You know,” Zach said suddenly. “I’ve always wished I could be more like you.”

Jeremy looked up, staring at Zach’s face. “You’re joking.” Zach shook his head, looking deadly serious. “ _ Why _ ?” Jeremy asked incredulously. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Zach responded. “You’re insanely talented, for one thing. And not only that, you’re just - you’re a good person. And right now, the world needs good people. There aren’t too many left.”

Jeremy shook his head. “That’s weird to think about. I mean, I’ve always wanted to be more like  _ you _ , you know that.” He went quiet for a second, and then said, “Do you think that anyone can ever be truly happy with who they are?”

Zach frowned, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, even the most powerful, most successful person in the world has to envy someone. I’m wondering if you can ever escape that. Comparing yourself to other people.”

“I want to believe that you can,” said Zach. “I think I’m pretty good the way I am. I just think I could be better. I could always improve, you know?”

“That’s exactly it,” said Jeremy. “There’s  _ always  _ a way to improve.” 

“But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it? I’m glad for it. I’m glad to always have something to strive for. It doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m not happy.”

“Are you happy?” Jeremy had to ask.

“Right now? Hell yeah, I am,” Zach said. “New York is awesome, I have my friends, I have basketball, I have my dog, I have a brother who’s kind of okay…” Jeremy rolled his eyes, and Zach laughed. “Really, though. Life’s pretty good right now. What about you? Are you happy?”

Jeremy hesitated. He hadn’t expected such a simple question to throw him for such a loop. The first thing that came into his head was his confrontation with his father last week, and all the interactions with his parents that had come before it. The argument with Zach. Whatever was happening with Simon, although whether that would turn out good or bad, Jeremy couldn’t tell.

But then there was the musical, and everything that came with it. There was Anabelle. There was all of his other friends, the rest of the troupe. There was this moment with Zach, right now.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said finally. “Yeah, I think I’m happy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: rewrite the stars - zac efron, zendaya | keeping a secret - bleachers | strawberries and cigarettes - troye sivan  
> come talk to me on twitter @annileej and tumblr @glorioussimon!!


	7. never had nobody and no road home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You always assume the absolute worst of me. You don’t even give me a chance to succeed because you just start tearing me down before I can even begin."
> 
> or, jeremy hits rock-bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know whether to feel proud of myself for updating twice in one day or angry at myself for writing this  
> tw for emotional abuse from "His parents were waiting for him when he got home the next day." to “I said you never believe me!”  
> tw for physical abuse from "Maybe he could escape, get upstairs, lock his door." to "The instant he was able to get up he was running, darting to the door and flinging it open."  
> and discussion of abuse from that point to the end of the chapter

They hadn’t talked about the kiss yet, and it was starting to drive Jeremy slightly insane.

Actually, he and Simon hadn’t talked at all since that afternoon, unless you counted rehearsing their scene together. Which Jeremy didn’t. At all. It was hard, if not impossible to believe that he and Simon could ever be...like this.

But that didn’t stop him from pretending.

Jeremy was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost forgot to say his line. (He’d almost missed his cue once before in Bitch of Living. Francis had had to kick the back of his chair to get him to focus.) “And in the meantime?”

“Why not?” Simon responded. He took Jeremy’s hand in his own, pressing his lips to it. The butterflies in Jeremy’s stomach went into overdrive, the way that they always did when he was this close to Simon.  _ Rest in peace, Jeremy Joshua Travers. Died of excessive exposure to Simon Saunders.  _ It wouldn’t be such a bad way to die, he thought.

Jeremy hadn’t turned around, yet still he could tell that Anabelle was staring at them. He could feel her eyes burning holes into the back of his head. And he wished that he could feel bad about it.

***

Jeremy had tried to convince himself that he and Anabelle hadn’t been talking to each other as much just because they hadn’t seen each other as often as they usually did. Anabelle had started catching rides to school with her dad, and even at rehearsal, they didn’t get many chances to speak. But still, they texted as much as they could. Which is why Jeremy assumed that if her relationship with Simon had progressed any further, she would at least text him about it. Which is why Jeremy thought that he might still have a chance. Which is why he had kissed Simon in the parking lot.

“Are they, like, together, together?” Jeremy hadn’t been paying much attention, but he followed Clark’s gaze to where Anabelle and Simon were sitting together, seemingly engrossed in whatever conversation they were having. “Or just...together?” 

_ They couldn’t be,  _ Jeremy thought, fighting to keep the frown off of his face.  _ I’d know about it, wouldn’t I? _ He couldn’t have kissed Anabelle’s boyfriend. He couldn’t have feelings for Anabelle’s boyfriend. He couldn’t be drawn back into this disaster.

“Oh, they’re as together as together gets,” said Jolene. Behind her, Anabelle reached out, brushing a strand of hair off of Simon’s face. The two of them didn’t even seem to realize that the others in the room were talking about them, too focused on each other to care about anything else. Jeremy felt his heart seize in his chest.

“Really?” he asked Jolene before he could stop himself. “So you know that?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jolene nodded. “Yeah, the other night at the steel mill, they totally did it in the foreman’s office.”

“No way,” Clark said, but Jeremy barely heard him, his thoughts seeming louder than anything else. He’d kissed Anabelle’s boyfriend. Not only that, but Anabelle’s boyfriend had kissed him  _ back _ . And there were all those glances between them, not only onstage during their scene, but when they weren’t in character, like when Simon had just come back from St. Francis, or when they were looking at the model of the set that Maashous had built...

Jeremy missed when the most complicated thing in his life was algebra.

***

Jeremy didn’t realize that he was consciously looking for Simon until he was standing right in front of him the next afternoon. “So, is it true you’re having sex with Anabelle?” he asked, barely greeting the other boy before he asked. Because screw pleasantries. Right now, he wanted answers.

Simon looked over his shoulder at him, a strange expression, almost like fear, passing over his features. But it was gone in an instant, replaced with a cold, inscrutable look. “I didn’t realize that was public knowledge,” he said cooly. “Uh, but yeah. Yeah, it’s true. I mean, she’s my girlfriend.”

“All right,” said Jeremy. He fought to keep his face blank, willing his voice not to crack as he spoke. “So, um, can we just talk this through? Because we kissed, and now you’re with Anabelle…”

“We didn’t kiss, okay?” Simon interrupted him, turning around swiftly to face Jeremy. “ _ You  _ kissed  _ me _ .” 

“We kissed each other!” Jeremy said. He wasn’t sure whether he was angry, confused, upset, or some awful mixture of the three. “You’ve been flirting with me onstage-”

“It’s called acting, okay?” Simon snapped at him.  _ Not all of it,  _ Jeremy wanted to say. It couldn’t have been. Even Simon, as talented as he was, wasn’t good enough to fake what Jeremy had seen. You couldn’t force yourself to have feelings, or not to have feelings. Emotions were there whether you wanted them to be or not, and you were powerless to fight them. You just had to let them have their way with you.

But Simon seemed determined to fight against his own.

“Look, I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea,” he continued, “Or if you’re...confused. But I’m dating  _ Anabelle _ .”

For a moment, Jeremy simply stared at him, Simon’s words still echoing in his head. “All right, good to know,” he heard himself say. “So listen. Um, I’m not really comfortable with our scene anymore.” He couldn’t meet Simon’s eyes as he spoke, looking down at the tiles on the floor.

“Okay,” Simon said. He was still acting like everything was fine. As if his words hadn’t just made Jeremy feel like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Um, what did you-”

“Just...don’t touch me anymore.” Jeremy felt pressure at the back of his eyelids and blinked furiously, trying to wipe whatever hurt expression he had off of his face. He wouldn’t cry in front of Simon. He couldn’t.

Simon was looking at him blankly. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Uh, why?”

_ Why?  _ Jeremy wanted to scream at him.  _ Because you led me on. Because you’re leading my best friend on, and I know you’re going to break her heart, and I don’t want to see her like that. Because I thought I could trust you and now I know that I can’t.  _ “You know why,” he said simply. He knew that there was no way that he could convey all of his thoughts in just those three words, but he knew that he had to try.

He turned around, walking out of the room. He didn’t want to spend another second standing that close to Simon. 

***

His parents were waiting for him when he got home the next day.

“Jeremy, get in here,” he heard his mother call the second he opened the door. A hot curl of something, anger or fear, ran through his body. He had to fight the urge to run, putting one foot in front of the other until he was standing in front of them in the kitchen.

“I hope you were doing something something important at that rehearsal of yours for you to be so late,” his father said to him.

He was five minutes late, and that was only because of traffic. And nothing had been accomplished at rehearsal at all. Robbie hadn’t shown up. Mr. Mazzu still seemed pissed. And his and Simon’s scene had completely fallen apart,  _ again _ . “Sorry that I took so long,” Jeremy said. “What’s going on?”

His mom slammed her hand down on the table and stood up, the loud noise echoing throughout the kitchen. Jeremy forced himself not to flinch as she stalked towards him. “We got an email today from Karen Robinson,” she said, “regarding a test that you failed. And your tendency to show up late for class, or miss it entirely.”

“I missed it once,” Jeremy said without thinking. He felt like he was shrinking as his mother glared at him. Behind her, his father stood up from the table.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” he grunted at him. 

Jeremy nodded. “I-I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Just like I’m sure you won’t fail another one of these tests.”

“I won’t!” Jeremy said. “I tried talking to Mrs. Robinson - she wouldn’t give me extra credit, but one of my friends is helping me out with the work, and I understand it now. I won’t fail another test. I promise.”

“That’s real fucking  __ likely,” his mother spat. “Just as likely as my failure of a son getting into college.” Jeremy almost wished that he could smell the alcohol on her breath, but he couldn’t. She was completely sober. This was exactly what she thought of him.

“I bet that he’s not getting help at all,” said his dad. “I bet that his ‘friend’, whoever that is, is doing his work for him. Cheating. Lying.”

“You never believe me.”

Jeremy hadn’t realized that he’d said the words out loud until he looked up and saw the nearly-identical glares aimed directly at him. “What did you say?” asked his mother.

“I said you never believe me!” Jeremy said, louder this time. “I always tell you the truth, but you  _ never _ believe it.”  _ Stop,  _ he tried to tell himself.  _ Stop, stop, stop.  _ But he couldn’t. He was so angry, so angry at everything, that there was no way to stop himself from trying to fight back in this one place. “You always assume the absolute worst of me. You don’t even give me a chance to succeed because you just start tearing me down before I can even begin. And don’t even try to pretend that you do it because you care about me. You never gave a shit about me, or about Zach! All you care about is your  _ precious fucking reputation! _ ”

A complete silence fell over the room. Jeremy couldn’t look away from his parents’ faces, unable to read their expressions. He took one step backwards, his heart feeling like it was about to beat out of his chest. Maybe he could escape, get upstairs, lock his door. He began to turn around, not even realizing that his mother was moving until he felt her strike him. 

The crack of skin against skin echoed through the kitchen, followed by hot pain lancing through the right side of his face. He stumbled, reaching out to grab something, anything, to keep him from falling. He wasn’t sure if it was the loss of balance or his knees simply giving out that led to him crashing to the floor, his head slamming against the corner of one of the kitchen cabinet. For a moment, all he could see was white. He curled up into himself, riding out the waves of pain echoing through him. He felt someone kicking at his side and let out a choked gasp, each hit feeling like a knife going straight through his ribs.

The instant he was able to get up he was running, darting to the door and flinging it open. He didn’t even stop to grab his keys, didn’t stop to put on a jacket. He just ran, ran so fast that the rain felt like bullets against his skin, ran so fast that maybe, just maybe, he could leave the memory of what had just happened behind him. But he knew that he couldn’t. There was no way that that would ever leave his head.

Jeremy stopped running at an unfamiliar street corner, his breath coming in short bursts along with the pain echoing through his body. He grabbed onto the street sign, trying to steady himself, but still felt himself sinking to the ground on the curb. He was shaking. His vision was blurring. The world felt tilted, as if everything was falling apart around him. Every thought he had seemed to disappear before it could fully form, like they were evaporating before he could grasp them. 

“Text someone,” he said out loud to himself, hoping that it would help him put his thoughts together. He winced at the sound of his own voice, hoarse and choked, sounding like it was being pulled from his throat with fishhooks. “Find - find somewhere to sleep.” Two names. There were two names in his head. Only two people he trusted with something like this.

He couldn’t tell Zach. He couldn’t put words to why, or how. Was it that Zach might already know, that this had happened before before? Or was it that he didn’t want him to know that their parents would do something like this?

Jeremy’s hands shook as he pulled out his phone, pressing call on the contact at the very top of his list. “Please, please, please…” he whispered. A spasm went through him, his phone jolting out of his grip. His breath hitched as he reached out to pick it up, seeing that the call had gone to voicemail. He pressed the call button again. And again. And again. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the screen. Finally he picked it up, going to his texts.

**You** _ (10:43): please call me i need help _

**You** _(10:52): i can’t go home tonight i don’t know who else to call_

**You** _ (11:00): anabelle please _

He shut off his phone at eleven, putting his head in his hands. There was a cold feeling spreading through his body from the inside out. The air around him felt so  _ thin _ , the rain felt like ice, his head throbbed. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. 

Jeremy didn’t know how much time passed before he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t look up, beyond the point of caring what happened to him next. Let someone beat him up. Let his parents find him and drag him back home. What was the point of giving a fuck?

“Jeremy?”

He knew that voice. “What are you doing here?” Jeremy asked.

Michael sat down next to him on the curb. “I live here,” he said. “So I think I should be asking you that question.” 

Jeremy lifted his head, and heard Michael gasp. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your head is like, covered in blood.” He frowned. Was he bleeding? He hadn’t noticed. Michael reached out, his fingers barely brushing the back of Jeremy’s head before Jeremy flinched away from him, his heart leaping into his throat The movement made his side ache.

“Don’t,” he whispered into the silence.

He could feel Michael staring at him, and he wrapped his arms around himself tighter, feeling a shudder go through him. “Jeremy,” Michael said quietly. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I...I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking. It’s pitch black and pouring outside. You’re not fine.” Michael moved as though he was going to touch his shoulder, but moved away at the last second. “Who hurt you?”

Jeremy wanted to tell him that nothing had happened. He wanted to tell him to get away from him. But when he opened his mouth to speak, a violent sob ripped through him. “No,” he said as the tears started to fall. “No, I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, resting his head on his knees. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop crying. It felt like he was choking, like the air was being pulled from his lungs.

He could feel Michael looking at him, and couldn’t bring himself to care when he heard him get up, walking quickly back towards his house. He didn’t know how long he sat there alone, trying to breathe, trying to make everything stop hurting. His fists were clenched, and he could feel his nails cutting into his skin. 

“Hey,” a voice, an unfamiliar voice, said gently. Jeremy blinked, startled. “Can you look at me, honey?” Jeremy tilted his head upwards, seeing a woman sitting in front of him. He hadn’t heard her approach, and wondered how long she had been sitting there. She smiled at him. “You’re Jeremy, right? I’m Michael’s mom.” She reached out, and Jeremy leaned backwards, away from her. Her smile vanished. “I’m not going to touch you. I just need you to breathe, okay? Look at me. Copy me. In and out. Good. Good, honey.”

By the time Jeremy got his breath back, the tears had mostly subsided. He could see again, could see Michael standing behind his mother, looking afraid. “Michael told me that you don’t want to talk about it,” Mrs. Hallowell said, “And I understand that. But if someone’s hurt you, you’ll need to give me your parents’ number, so I can tell them where their son is…”

“No!” Jeremy yelped. He unclenched his hands, feeling blood on his nails from where they had sliced into his skin. “You can’t do that, they...they’re the ones who…” He couldn’t get the words out, trailing off and closing his eyes. He felt another tear slip down his cheek.

When he looked at Mrs. Hallowell again, her face was like stone. “I see,” she said. He couldn’t read her voice. “Well, you can stay with us tonight. I’m a nurse, I can check that cut on your head. Is that okay with you?”

Jeremy was silent, his gaze falling to the ground. He wanted to say no, that he was fine. He knew that he’d already broken a promise to himself by telling the Hallowells exactly how he’d gotten hurt. Accepting help would just make this whole situation even worse. 

But he didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

“Jeremy?” Michael said. 

Finally, Jeremy nodded. “Okay,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: FOOLS - troye sivan | dead in the water - ellie goulding | world gone mad - bastille


	8. i really need somebody to call my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you could go back, Jeremy asked himself, knowing what would happen in the future, would you still audition?  
> He had no idea, he realized. 
> 
> or, jeremy is alone. at least, that's what he believes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have driver's ed this week + next week so idk if i'll be able to update that much but i promise i'll try my best!!

**You** _ (10:43): please call me i need help _

**You** _(10:52): i can’t go home tonight i don’t know who else to call_

**You** _ (11:00): anabelle please _

_ Read at 11:02pm _

***

Jeremy bit back a scream as he woke up. He never remembered the nightmares after he opened his eyes, but he always remembered the feelings that came with them, the feeling of being watched, of being attacked, of feeling disgusted with himself. 

He sat up quickly - maybe too quickly. Pain shot through his entire right side, and he gasped, flinching as tears sprang to his eyes. He reached down, pulling up his shirt and staring at the bruises that had already appeared on his skin. Purple, blue, brown. He looked away.

The clothes that he’d worn last night had been dried and folded sometime during the night. Jeremy stood up, ignoring the ache in his ribs, and walked over to the dresser that they were placed on top of. He kept his head bowed, not wanting to see his own face in the mirror that hung on the wall.

He unfolded the shirt, his stomach turning at the sight of the faded bloodstains on the collar. He hadn’t realized how much he had been bleeding last night until the Hallowells had let him use their shower and the water had seemed to run red. Mrs. Hallowell had assured him that the injury was nothing serious, that head wounds typically bled a lot, that he would be fine to perform on opening night. Jeremy had been relieved. If he couldn’t perform, he didn’t know what else he had left.

Jeremy dressed as fast as he could despite the soreness. As he buttoned up his shirt, he glanced up, meeting the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. For a split second he felt his heart stop, a choking feeling arising in his throat. The bruise on his cheek was only half-formed, but it was in the clear shape of a handprint. He ran a hand through his hair, lifting his bangs up off of his forehead. The cut was an ugly red, but it could easily be covered, and would eventually fade. He had concealer too, he could cover up the bruise. It would all go away. It would all be fine. No one would have to know what had happened.

Except, of course, for the three people downstairs. 

Jeremy had hoped to be able to sneak out of the house without anyone noticing, but he had to walk past the dining room to get to the door, and of course they were right there, seated around the table, all eating breakfast together like some perfect family. Jeremy looked away, praying to get past them before he was noticed.

“Jeremy?”  _ Shit.  _

Jeremy glanced up, seeing Michael’s eyes widen at the sight of his face. “Hi,” he said quietly. His voice still seemed scratchy, and he fought back the urge to wince at the sound of it.

Michael’s mother smiled at him. “Good morning.” She was trying to act casual, but Jeremy could tell that she too was staring at the bruises.

“G-good morning,” Jeremy said. He swallowed, forcing himself to keep speaking. “Thank you for helping me last night.”

“Well, of course,” Mr. Hallowell said. He had come home just after Jeremy had finally agreed to come inside, and Mrs. Hallowell had explained the situation to him in a hushed voice. Jeremy couldn’t hear the whole conversation, but he picked up on words like ‘ _ abuse _ ’ and ‘ _ he looks terrified’  _ and  _ ‘he’s only a child’.  _ It had seemed to play over and over again in his head as he tossed and turned last night, trying to fall asleep. “Hey, sit down. Have something to eat.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Thank you, really, but I should be going home.”

“ _ Why? _ ” Michael dropped his fork, letting it crash against the plate. The sound seemed to echo in Jeremy’s ears. He cast his eyes towards the ground, not wanting to look at Michael. 

“What else can I do?” Jeremy said softly. “Anywhere I go...they’ll just track me down. I can’t risk hurting anyone else.”  _ Especially not Zach.  _ If he found out about this, it would destroy him. And Jeremy would do anything in his power to stop that from happening.

“Jeremy, you can stay here,” Mrs. Hallowell said. She was fighting to keep a neutral expression, but Jeremy could see the tears gathering in her eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “We’ll call Child Protective Services, tell them what’s happening…”

“No,” Jeremy blurted out. It was the loudest that he’d spoken all morning. “You...you can’t. No one else can know about this. It’ll just...make everything worse.” Mrs. Hallowell opened her mouth, but Jeremy cut her off, knowing that if he didn’t get this over with as quickly as possible, there would be no way that he would have the willpower to refuse her offer. “Thank you for giving me a place to stay last night, and I’m sorry, but I really have to go. See you Monday, Michael.” He turned away, not wanting to see the clear pity on their faces as he walked out the door.

Jeremy barely remembered the way back to his house from the Hallowells’. It seemed like a much shorter distance than it did the previous night, yet still he got home much sooner than he wanted to. His mother’s car wasn’t in the driveway - she was probably at work - and his dad never woke up before noon. Still, Jeremy’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as he stared up at the house. It looked like every other house on the street, two stories with white walls and deep blue shutters and a wooden porch in front, but looking at any other house wouldn’t fill Jeremy with this much dread.

He finally managed to make himself move, going over to the front porch. He reached underneath the stairs, praying that the backpack was still there. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt the cloth strap sticking out from where he had stuck it to the bottom of the porch with scotch tape. He dislodged it quickly, pulling it out. The bag was dirty and slightly damp, but everything inside was still intact.

Jeremy had packed the bag when he was twelve, the first time that something like this had happened, but hadn’t had a use for it since he was fourteen. Food, water, a change of clothes, a book - his favorite then had been  _ I’ll Give You The Sun _ , but he hadn’t read it in years - concealer to cover up whatever bruises he might have. He dug the concealer out of the bag, stuffing it in his pocket. After a moment of consideration, he picked up the backpack. He’d update the contents of it, put it in his car rather than underneath the porch this time.

And here he was. Back to  _ this _ , to the constant fear, the constant doubt, always having to look over his shoulder. He felt filled to the brim with emotions, with fear and anger and others that he didn’t even know how to name.

There was a spare key in the flowerpot on the porch, and Jeremy got it out and opened the door as quietly as possible. Not that it mattered. His dad could sleep through anything. Still he jumped at every noise he heard as he snuck up the stairs towards his room, closing and locking the door as soon as he got there.

Jeremy laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. In the sudden, overwhelming silence, his own thoughts seemed louder than ever, his own emotions seeming to suffocate him. He closed his eyes. He knew that he wouldn’t sleep, and even if he somehow did, nightmares would wake him up before too long. All that he could do was sit here, alone with his thoughts, with his fears. 

_ Two more years,  _ he tried to tell himself.  _ Two more years, and then it’s over. You’ll be free. _

It had never been more difficult to believe than it was now.

***

The weekend simultaneously went by much too slowly and much too quickly. Jeremy barely left his room, only daring to step foot outside when he was positive that his parents either weren’t hope or were sleeping. He had hardly slept himself, and hadn’t touched his phone once, even when Zach called -  _ especially  _ when Zach called. He debated not going to school on Monday, but he didn’t want to think about the alternative, about staying home one more day and the possibility of having to come face-to-face with his parents getting larger and larger.

He looked at his phone for the first time since Friday night just before he walked into the school. There were countless messages from Zach, which he skimmed over, only half-reading them. One from Michael, asking if he’d gotten home safe. And one from Anabelle, sent on Sunday night.

**anabelle!!** _ (9:21): I need to talk to you tomorrow, can you meet me by the auditorium before class starts?? _

She hadn’t said a word about the texts he’d sent Friday night.

***

“Hey,” Jeremy said as he walked up to Anabelle.

She blinked, seeming dazed as she looked up from her phone. “Oh, hi.” She glanced over at him, a strange expression visible behind her eyes. For a split second, Jeremy wondered if she could tell that he’d covered up the bruise on his face, if she could somehow could see through the concealer that he’d applied that morning.  _ She can’t,  _ he told himself.  _ She never noticed when you were younger. She definitely won’t now. _

She seemed way too out of it to notice much of anything now, anyway. Jeremy let himself relax, felt his heartbeat return to a somewhat normal pace. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, what was up with that text?”

Jeremy could tell that she was fighting to keep a neutral expression, but she was never a good liar. He could see the frown tugging at the edges of her mouth. “I...didn’t have the best weekend.”

_ Yeah, you’re telling me.  _ “Do you want to talk about it?”

Anabelle sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “Simon and I were going to...well, we were going to have sex on Friday night.” Jeremy barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “But before we could even get started, he just...ran away. He said that he couldn’t. At first I thought it was because of me. Because I wasn’t good enough for him, or not attractive enough, or something.”

“Anabelle, you’re not…” Jeremy started to say, but Anabelle kept talking, ignoring him.

“But then I started thinking about it. About  _ him _ . And…” She closed her eyes, clearly not wanting to say what she was about to say. “The other day when you and him were doing your scene, I made a joke about how if I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were the couple. And I can’t help but wonder…” She looked over at him.

It took a moment for the words to truly set in. Jeremy blinked, confused. “Are you saying that you think that Simon didn’t want to have sex with you because he’s into  _ me _ ?” He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or scream. “Or - what, you think your boyfriend is cheating on you with me? Do you really think that I would do that to you? Do you really that low of me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Anabelle said. “I just want to know if you know what’s going on -”

“No, I don’t,” Jeremy snapped. “I really have  _ no idea  _ what’s going on with Simon, okay? And trust me, I want to know as much as you do.”

Anabelle looked stunned for a moment, staring at him. “Jeremy,” she said quietly. “Do you… _ like _ Simon?”

Jeremy looked away from her. “No.”

“But you said -”

“ _ No!” _ Jeremy yelled. “And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter anyway. Not with everything else happening. Did you ever think to ask what I was texting you about on Friday night?”

Anabelle frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m talking about how while you were with your boyfriend, I was…” Jeremy’s throat suddenly closed up, and he felt the pressure building behind his eyelids. He shook his head, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t...I’m sorry, I have to go.”

He heard Anabelle call his name as he turned away from her, moving down the hallway as quickly as he could. He ducked into a bathroom as soon as he was out of her sight, clutching onto the sink. His breath seemed to come in short bursts, rattling in his chest.  _ You need to get a hold of yourself,  _ he told himself. But he felt so angry, so angry at everyone, at Anabelle, at Simon, at his parents, at the world. It was like it was consuming him from the inside out, and it was one of the worst feelings he had ever felt.

Rehearsal was even worse. Mr. Mazzu made him and Simon rehearse their scene, and it was just as bad as before, if not worse. Everything felt so cold between them, so  _ wrong _ . Of course Mr. Mazzu called them out on it. If Jeremy was in his place, he would do the same thing. He was almost glad when Principal Ward burst in and ended it, despite knowing that eventually they would have to rehearse it again and it would be just the same as it was now. Jeremy wished that he could just talk to Simon, that even if he couldn’t salvage any semblance of a relationship between them, they could at least do their scene the way it was before. But it was impossible. There was no way that Simon would ever talk to him again.

Mr. Mazzu, looking stunned, called off rehearsal after Principal Ward left the room and Lexi ran off of the stage in tears. Jeremy didn’t blame him. He couldn’t focus much on it either.

***

_ Just add biology class to the list of things to dread _ , Jeremy thought to himself as he maneuvered through the packed halls the next day. It had been bad enough before, but after last night’s disastrous rehearsal, he felt even worse about having to stare at the back of Simon’s head for forty-five minutes every day. Jeremy never thought that he’d long for the days of being too nervous to even think about Simon, much less talk to him.

“Hey, Jeremy?” He felt a tap on his shoulder and whirled around, his heart pounding. “Sorry,” Michael said, cringing. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Jeremy said unconvincingly. “You didn’t. What’s up?”

“My mom,” Michael said. “She wanted me to ask you about...what happened Friday night. How you’re doing.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “I can’t talk about that here,” he said quickly. “Not with…” He gestured to the crowds of people that filled the hallway.

“No one is listening,” said Michael. He was right - everyone else seemed way too occupied with their own conversations to even notice them - yet still Jeremy’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. “And honestly, I’m really worried about you too. You just ran off on Saturday morning, and everyone says that you just seemed to drop off the face of the earth over the weekend - like, you weren’t answering anyone’s texts…”

“You  _ told  _ people?”

“That’s not what I said,” Michael replied. “I didn’t tell anyone what happened. They were just wondering about it. They were worried about you because they  _ care _ about you.” He hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, “If you were to...come out and say what’s happening to you, you’d have a lot of people to back you up, you know? You’re not alone, Jeremy.”

Jeremy almost laughed out loud. He’d felt more alone in the past twenty-four hours than he had in his entire life. “I don’t need help,” he said. “And I’m _ not _ going to tell anyone about this, and you don’t need to be worried about me, so would you please just _ leave me alone? _ ”

The words came out louder than Jeremy expected them to, and infinitely more harsh. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he spoke again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was...really rude of me, and I shouldn’t have said that, and I’m sorry-”

“Dude, it’s fine,” said Michael. He still looked concerned, and Jeremy hated it, hated the idea that it was his own problems that Michael and his family were worried about. “I mean, we’re all stressed. Especially with the petition going around and everything.”

Jeremy frowned. “The what?”

Michael looked surprised. “You haven’t heard?”

Jeremy shook his head, and Michael opened his mouth, about to reply when the bell rang suddenly, cutting off their conversation. “Damn it,” he said. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

Jeremy nodded, watching as Michael took off down the hallway. For a moment, he just simply stood there, staring at nothing as the crowds around him slowly thinned out. 

“Jeremy?”

He snapped back to attention at the sound of Mr. Kranepool’s voice. He was standing by his classroom door, looking at Jeremy expectantly. “Are you going to be joining us today?”

Jeremy had never been more convinced to just skip class, to turn around and just leave. And yet he knew that he couldn’t. “Yes,” he said softly as he walked into the classroom. “Sorry.”

He felt Simon’s eyes on him as he sat down, but he forced himself to ignore it.

***

Jeremy thought he was hallucinating when he saw Zach’s car parked in front of the school after rehearsal that night. His phone buzzed and he dug it out of his pocket, staring down at the message on the screen.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:58): Get in loser we’re going shopping _

“What are you doing here?” Jeremy asked as he climbed into the car, tossing his bag into the backseat.

“I’m here to see you, obviously,” said Zach. “Opening night is Friday, in case you’d forgotten.”

“No, I just…” Jeremy shook his head. “You said you wouldn’t get here until Friday morning.”

Zach glanced over at him. “What, are you not happy to see me?”

_ Not now,  _ he thought.  _ Not after what happened on Friday.  _ “I am,” said Jeremy, lying through his teeth. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“Well, here I am,” said Zach. He was smiling at him, and Jeremy wished that he could smile back. “So, how was your day? How was rehearsal?”

Zach had started driving and Jeremy had turned towards the window, watching as the cars went by outside. It had rained earlier in the day, and the headlights glinted off of the fresh puddles on the ground, reflecting back into Jeremy’s eyes. “Honestly, it was awful,” he said quietly.

He could hear the frown in Zach’s voice when he spoke. “What happened?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Pretty much everything that can go wrong is going wrong. And I have no idea what to do about it.” His parents - he hadn’t even seen them since Friday, and he was dreading the day that he would have to. Anabelle - they hadn’t even looked at each other since Monday. And then there was Simon,  _ everything  _ about Simon. His eyes constantly on him, staring at him when he thought Jeremy wasn’t looking. (Jeremy didn’t want to admit that he did the same to Simon.) Simon’s parents’ names on the petition. (He had no idea what that was about, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.) Their scene, over and over again, constantly pulling away from each other and avoiding each other’s eyes.

Zach didn’t respond, and Jeremy was fine with that, content to just sit in silence as they drove through the streets of Stanton. At some point, Jeremy realized that Zach had missed the street that their house was on, but didn’t say a word.  _ Anything to stay away from them for just a few more minutes.  _ He leaned against the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the car was parked and Zach was gone. Jeremy sat up, startled, looking around. The sun had already nearly set, but even in the low light, he could tell that he was at the lake, the same place that he had been when Zach had encouraged him to audition for Spring Awakening. Back then, he had had no idea how much would change just by being a part of it.  _ If you could go back,  _ Jeremy asked himself,  _ knowing what would happen in the future, would you still audition? _

He had no idea, he realized. 

He saw Zach standing by the pier and climbed out of the car, going to stand by him. Zach looked over at him as he approached and grinned. “Did you fall asleep?”

“Maybe a little.” Jeremy stared out at the still waters of the lake. “What are we doing here?”

“You clearly don’t want to go home.” Jeremy flinched, and felt Zach’s eyes instantly on him. “Should I even bother asking what happened?”

Jeremy shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “ _No.”_ _There’s nothing you can do about it, so why even bother?_

Zach was still staring at him. “Why do you always do that?” he asked. His voice sounded distant, like a wind blowing in off of the lake waters.

“Do what?”

“Push people away. Isolate yourself.” He hesitated for a moment, then kept speaking, louder this time. “I’m not here for the musical, you know. Well, I am, but really - I was worried about you. You wouldn’t respond to any texts, any calls, and you only do that when something’s really upsetting you.”

“Maybe my phone was just dead,” Jeremy muttered.

Silence, and then - “Anabelle texted me.”

“ _ What? _ ” Jeremy whirled around, feeling that familiar fury pulsing in his heart. “What the hell did she say?”

“She said that she was _ scared _ !” Zach retorted. He put his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders. “She said you wouldn’t talk to anyone, that you seemed so angry at everything. She was hoping that I would know what the hell was going on with you, but I didn’t. Because you won’t let me in. You won’t let  _ anyone _ in!”

“Because there’s nothing that anyone can do!” Jeremy yelled. He felt a tear slide down his cheek, but he was desperate to ignore it. “I’m alone because I have to be! If I tell anyone, it’ll just make everything so much worse - I have to…”

“That’s the thing, Jeremy,” Zach said. Jeremy was full-on crying by then, but he would give anything to stop it, to just go back to earlier today and somehow stop this conversation from ever happening. “You  _ don’t _ have to be alone. I don’t know exactly what’s happening with you, but you’re shouldering the entire thing by yourself, and it’s killing you. Maybe no one would be able to stop whatever it is, but you’d have so many people to support you. There are so many people that care about you.” Jeremy’s thoughts were racing. He remembered Michael and his parents on Friday night, Jolene helping him with his algebra work, Francis when he had the panic attack after the football game, coming out to Anabelle in the car that quiet night, Zach, in this exact place, encouraging him to do what he loved. Even Simon - despite everything that had happened between them recently, there were still the moments before, in his car after the party, in the parking lot. 

Jeremy looked down at the ground. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” he choked out between sobs. “Everything is falling apart.”

Zach’s hands tightened on his shoulders, and then he was pulling him into a hug. Jeremy tensed up for a moment before relaxing, leaning into him. “I’m not going to tell you what you should do,” Zach whispered. “I’m just going to remind you that you aren’t alone. And you never will be. Okay?” He paused for a moment, then continued speaking. “I lied, actually. There is one thing that I’m going to tell you not to do. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, not right now, but you have to promise me something. Promise me that you won’t let this destroy you. Please, Jeremy.”

The silence that followed Zach’s words felt as though it was something alive. Finally, Jeremy took a breath, and it felt like it was the first that he’d taken in years. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: drama - AJR | hard feelings/loveless - lorde | forever - sean grandillo | in my blood - shawn mendes  
> talk to me on twitter @annileej and tumblr @glorioussimon!!


	9. and if you feel like night is falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy didn’t know what would happen next, and at that moment, he didn’t want to ask. Right then, he was content to just be there with Simon, just talking to him, their fingers intertwined. It felt normal. It felt peaceful. It felt right.
> 
> or, jeremy finally speaks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep an eye on my tumblr (@glorioussimon) this week for a somebody to someone related announcement!

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:56): I’m outside and also I just found your video _

**You** _ (7:59): my what _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (7:59): Well it’s not exactly yours as in you made it but the spring awakening one? _

**You** _ (8:00): oh _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:00): Can we discuss Simon in that video? (Also how did the person who made this even get this footage) _

**You** _ (8:00): i can’t even process it so i think it’s a no on that one also idk _

**You** _ (8:01): that video got us in a lot of trouble you know _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:02): ?? What kind of trouble _

**You** _(8:02): principal ward is making some ‘changes’ to the show_

**You** _ (8:02): or as simon is calling it, ‘censorship’ _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:03): Like what? The female dog of living? _

**You** _ (8:03): we don’t know all the details yet _

**You** _ (8:04): i’ll be outside in a second _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:05): Okay, see you soon _

Jeremy was just about to leave when he heard it. He put his phone down, looking down the hallway to where the door to the green room was open just a crack. The light was still on, and judging from the muffled sobs that seemed to be coming out of the room, someone was inside.

He hesitated, then walked down the hallway, peering through the door. The person on the couch was turned away from him, but Jeremy could still tell who it was. He pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak it made. “Lexi?”

“Shit,” he heard her say under her breath. She sat up, wiping her eyes before she turned around to face him. “What’s up?”

Jeremy had hidden his own emotions enough times to be able to tell that she was hiding her own. “Are you okay?” he asked. He stepped closer to her, kicking the door shut with his foot. “I heard you, in the hallway…”

“Oh, yeah.” She tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s just…” She shrugged. “A lot of things, actually?”

“The video?” 

“That’s part of it.” She sighed, not quite meeting his eyes, and Jeremy moved to sit down next to her. “I just feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Jeremy frowned. “No, you haven’t.” She shook her head. “Look, Principal Ward would have found out what the play was about eventually, and he probably would have done this no matter when he did. At least he didn’t find out on opening night and shut us down then.”

Lexi grinned slightly. “God. Can you imagine?”

“Honestly, yeah, I can. He’s the worst.” Jeremy paused, and then continued speaking. “Also, the video was kind of awesome. You’re really talented.”

“Really?” Jeremy could see the beginnings of a smile on Lexi’s face. “Thank you. I take a tv-video production class as one of my electives, and it was the only thing I could think of to get people to buy tickets other than just buying more tickets for myself. Did you hear the rumor that Mr. Mazzu actually did that? Apparently, he bought thirty tickets for opening night.”

“You’re  _ kidding _ .”

Lexi shook her head. “I’d say that it was just a rumor, but it really sounds like something he’d do, doesn’t it?”

Jeremy nodded. “Honestly, yeah. I’d totally buy more tickets if I could - the only person I know who’s going is my brother.”

“For me, it’s only my parents and one of my sisters,” said Lexi. “I was thinking about trying to convince them to bring my youngest sister, have them buy a ticket for her and everything, but I don’t think that Spring Awakening is really the right thing for a three-year-old. And she’d probably start crying at the most inappropriate time, anyway.”

“Hysterical crying in the middle of Touch Me?”

“Exactly. Or, like, Word Of Your Body Reprise.” She was silent for a moment. “What happened there, Jeremy?”

Jeremy frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lexi met his eyes. “I mean...I don’t want to be rude, but you and Simon used to be so amazing in that moment. I know that I’m not the only one who genuinely wondered if you guys were a couple, at least until the whole thing with Anabelle.” Jeremy fought to keep himself from flinching. “And then suddenly none of that chemistry was there anymore. Like, you guys probably won’t be allowed to do the kiss anymore at all with Principal Ward breathing down our necks, but you two wouldn’t have done it anyway, would you?”

Jeremy took a breath, looking away from her. “No,” he said finally. It felt like his blood had frozen solid. “I really don’t think we would have.”

Lexi was still staring at him. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence, the minutes ticking by. “How do you deal with it?” she said suddenly.

“Deal with what?”

“Liking a boy who doesn’t like you back.” 

Jeremy whirled around, staring at her. “How did you -”

“Know about it?” She shrugged. “Sorry to say this, but you’re not exactly subtle.”

Jeremy sighed. “I know.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch. “Why do you want to know?” he asked.

Lexi smiled slightly. “I could use some tips on how to fall for straight people. Or, more helpfully, how not to.”

“I’m definitely not the one to ask about  _ that _ .” 

Lexi raised her eyebrows skeptically, opening her mouth to speak, but her phone vibrated before she could say a word. Jeremy didn’t let himself think about what she was going to say, squashing his hopes into a tiny ball. “My ride is here,” she said, reaching down to pick up her backpack.

“Mine too,” said Jeremy. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” She turned to leave, then suddenly looked back at him. “Thank you, by the way.”

Jeremy frowned. “For what?”

“Just for being here, I guess. For trying to make me feel better.” She smiled. “Like, we’ve never really talked that much, but you seem like a really cool person.”

“Really? Um, thanks. You too.” Jeremy stood up, turning away to pick up his phone, and by the time he looked back towards the door, Lexi was gone. His phone screen lit up with a notification.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (8:23): Are you still alive in there _

**You** _ (8:23): hold on i’m on my way _

“What took you so long?” Zach asked as he climbed into the front seat.

“Sorry,” said Jeremy. “I was just...talking to a friend, I guess.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Zach replied. He started the car, maneuvering out of the parking lot. “I’m taking you home, right?” he asked Jeremy.

Jeremy hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Look, you really don’t have to stay with them, all right?” Zach told him. “You can stay with me at the motel. I have a sofa bed.”

Jeremy shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” he said. “Mom and Dad don’t really even acknowledge me much anymore.”  _ Not since Friday.  _ He still hadn’t told Zach about what happened. He probably wouldn’t tell him at all.

“Still,” said Zach. “I know how they’ve made you feel before. Who’s to say they couldn’t do it again?”

Jeremy fought to keep from shuddering. “Really, I’m okay,” he said. “As tempting as sleeping on the couch sounds, I’m fine at home.”

“Okay,” said Zach. “If anything ever changes, though, tell me. I’m here until Monday morning.”

“I know. I will.” Jeremy leaned his head against the window, not speaking until Zach pulled up in front of the house. “Thanks for driving me.”

“Anytime, dude.” Jeremy looked over at the house. Despite both cars being in the driveway, the windows were dark, and it looked like no one was awake. Internally, he let out a sigh of relief. “See you soon,” Zach said.

“See you.”

***

“Okay, good, good, good,” Mr. Mazzu said, cutting off the band. Jeremy paused, looking over at him.  _ What’s the catch?  _ “Just a couple of tweaks on this one…”  _ Right. There it is.  _ “Um, let’s replace ‘sensing God is dead’ with uh, ‘sensing this is bad.’”

Jeremy made a face, not caring if Mr. Mazzu saw him. “Sensing this is bad? Really?” he heard Simon say. Michael, standing behind him, glanced over at Jeremy, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, and just one other thing,” Mr. Mazzu said, trying valiantly to ignore the clear annoyance radiating off of the boys on the stage. “Francis, we’re gonna have to cut your verse about you and your…” He gestured vaguely with his glasses. “....piano teacher.” 

“And we’re so sorry about this, Francis,” Ms. Wolfe continued, picking up from Mr. Mazzu.

“Sure,” said Francis. “It’s cool.” Jeremy looked over at him. He looked upset, but worse, he didn’t look at all surprised. Jeremy felt like throwing something.

Simon scoffed. “That’s not fair,” he said. “Francis is great in that moment.”

“Simon, it’s okay…” Francis said quietly, but Simon cut him off.

“No. It’s not okay!” he snapped. He turned to address Mr. Mazzu and Ms. Wolfe. “Francis has been working his ass off for three months. It’s one of his biggest moments in the whole show, you can’t just _ take it away _ !”

“Simon,” Ms. Wolfe said, holding up her hands. “We’re dealing with a really tough situation here.” 

“Look, we understand that this is frustrating,” Mr. Mazzu said. “Sometimes in life, we have to make-”

“Make  _ compromises _ ?” Simon replied. “Huh? Yeah, I know.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping, and he shook his head. Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off of him. This was so unlike Simon, he thought. Yet he found himself hanging on to every word. 

“We believed in what you were trying to do,” Simon said. “We showed up, stayed late. We gave it our all, we trusted you.  _ I _ trusted you!” He paused, blinking rapidly. “And my family is falling apart right now, because of this show, because of my part!” A frown spread across Jeremy’s face as he looked over at Simon. He had no idea what he meant by that. He didn’t want to think about what it could mean. The words seemed to settle in his head, still echoing moments later.

Simon was still talking. “But I did it because...I thought it meant something. I thought it was important. But now you’re like, nah, never mind, let’s not do it!” He seemed to spit the last few words, staring daggers at Mr. Mazzu and Ms. Wolfe. “And it’s like, why do the scene if we can’t do the scene, just  _ cut it! _ ” 

“Simon…”

“Just cut the whole stupid thing!” Simon yelled, throwing his microphone to the ground. The shrill feedback echoed off of the walls of the auditorium and Jeremy flinched at the sound of it. He looked over at Simon as he stalked off of the stage, quickly reaching up to wipe at his eyes. Mr. Mazzu stared at him, looking dumbfounded. 

“Set up for scene five,” he said after the silence seemed to go on for much too long. 

No one moved a muscle.

“Scene five!”

Finally, people started to clear the stage. Jeremy caught up to Francis as he was leaving. “Hey, are you okay?”

Francis exhaled. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” He hesitated. “Do you know what that was about? With Simon, I mean?”

Jeremy shook his head. “No idea.” It seemed so unlike him. He’d never seen Simon that upset, that angry, had never even been able to picture it.  

“Really?” Francis said. “I mean, if anyone would know, it would be you.”

Jeremy frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You guys just…” Francis hesitated. “You seem close, I guess.” 

_ God, am I really that obvious?  _ “I don’t know,” Jeremy said quietly. “Not as much anymore.”

“What happened with you guys?” Francis asked. “I mean, one minute you guys seemed fine, and the next…”

Jeremy sighed. “It’s a lot,” he said. He didn’t explain. He wasn’t sure how to. “Do you know what he could have meant by that?” he asked after a moment. “The thing about his family falling apart?”

Francis shook his head. “No. I’d think that you would.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Jeremy.

Francis was silent for a moment, and then spoke up, sounding hesitant. “Have you guys even talked since your scene fell apart?”

Jeremy shook his head. 

“Well, then maybe you should,” said Francis. “It might do a lot of good.” Someone, probably Clark, called his name, and he glanced over his shoulder. “I should probably go. See you, Jeremy.” He turned and left, leaving his words echoing in the air and Jeremy still standing there, his thoughts racing.

***

There he was. Sitting alone on the couch, staring down at his script. Jeremy paused, standing by the door, but Simon didn’t seem to notice that he was there, his eyes glazed over and seeming miles away. 

Simon finally looked up as Jeremy approached him, his footsteps loud on the wooden floor. He looked confused, startled even, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t push him away.  _ Good,  _ Jeremy thought to himself.  _ That’s good. _

“Just, uh, just reading this again. It’s so beautiful,” Simon said finally, gesturing down to the script. Jeremy glanced at the pages, recognizing the vineyard scene in an instant. Simon was right, he thought. It was beautiful. But all the changes that Mr. Mazzu had been forced to make, Simon and Jeremy’s own reluctance to perform the scene as it was written, had seemed to suck the life out of it.

“You okay?” Jeremy asked him. “I mean, you got so upset at rehearsal…”

“Yeah,” Simon nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jeremy looked down at the ground, not meeting Simon’s eyes. He remembered earlier that day - all of the things that Simon had said, the anger that had appeared to radiate out of him. “What you said about your family falling apart,” he heard himself say. “What did you…”

“Yeah, that was, uh…” Simon shook his head. “That was…”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Jeremy said. That was something he understood, now more than ever, having something weighing down on you, seeming to crush you, and the feeling that talking about it would only make it worse. He remembered what Zach had told him.  _ You don’t have to be alone.  _

Simon sighed, closing his script and looking in front of him, staring at the wall. “My, uh, my family,” he said slowly, “is very…” He scoffed, a humorless smile coming over his face as he shook his head. “Catholic,” he said finally. “And th-they don’t like me playing Hanschen. They don’t approve of…” He hesitated. “Homosexuality. You know, they don’t approve of a lot of this, actually.” He held up the script, looking over at it. He looked so distant, so lost. 

“I- I feel like...there’s this bomb inside me,” he said softly. His voice sounded choked, and Jeremy wished that he could do something about it. But he felt paralyzed, staring at Simon as he spoke. “Ever since we started the show...I have these feelings. And I feel like if I ever opened up to them…” He shook his head. “It’d just blow up my family.” He exhaled, his hand gripping the armrest of the couch. “And they’re my family, you know? I love them.” He leaned back against the back of the couch, closing his eyes, but not before Jeremy could see the tears gathering in them. When Jeremy blinked, he was surprised to find that his own eyes were wet. 

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence. Jeremy had no idea what to say, how to process what he’d just heard. Simon hadn’t moved, his hand still resting on the side of the couch. Before he could stop himself, Jeremy reached out. Their hands had barely brushed before Simon intertwined their fingers, grabbing onto Jeremy’s hand like a lifeline. Simon let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” he whispered. 

Jeremy knew the feeling. Those exact same words had come out of his mouth. 

“I almost didn’t audition for the show,” he said after a moment. “For a lot of reasons, actually.”

Simon frowned, glancing over at him. “Really? But you...you’re amazing.” His face flushed as soon as the words came out of his mouth, and Jeremy was sure that there was a matching blush on his own cheeks.

“I wasn’t so sure,” Jeremy said. “My older brother, Zach, he’s the one who convinced me to try out. He told me - um, sorry, I don’t usually curse…” He made air quotes with his free hand. “Fuck what other people think of you. It’s what you think of you that matters.”

“But that’s the problem,” Simon said quietly. “I don’t  _ know _ what I think of me. When you - when you kissed me in the parking lot that day…” He sighed, not meeting Jeremy’s eyes. Jeremy felt his stomach twist.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. Simon frowned, looking over at him. “Kissed you, I mean,” Jeremy continued. He felt his face flush again. “I didn’t know what was going on with your family - and that’s really no excuse for anything, I guess. I shouldn’t have pushed you, I’m sorry -”

Simon shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said. “I...I did kiss you back. You were right.” He sounded like he was admitting it to himself as much as he was admitting it to Jeremy. “I should be apologizing,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “To you. To Anabelle. I hurt you guys, and that’s really not okay.”

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me,” said Jeremy.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Simon’s face. “Deal.”

Jeremy didn’t know what would happen next, and at that moment, he didn’t want to ask. Right then, he was content to just be there with Simon, just talking to him, their fingers intertwined. It felt normal. It felt peaceful. It felt right.

***

Usually Jeremy was glad that his mother worked late. It minimized any chance of running into her, of having to talk to her. He’d typically be in his room by the time she got home, barely aware that she was there, and that was how he liked it.

But Jeremy usually got home earlier than this, never arriving at the same time as her. He’d gotten caught up talking to Simon, the two of them sitting there for nearly an hour, and that had led him  _ here  _ \- parked at the end of the driveway, watching as his mother stepped out of her car, praying that she didn’t look over at him. He hadn’t seen her since Friday night, and he’d thought that when he finally did, he’d be fine. It would have been long enough since it happened that he wouldn’t feel like he was drowning when he looked at her, wouldn’t seem to be able to sense her hands on him all over again.

She didn’t even glance in his direction as she walked inside, but Jeremy still felt like he couldn’t breathe as he stared at the place where she had just been. He couldn’t go into that house, not with her there. He just couldn’t.

His hands shook as he typed out the text.

**You** _ (9:27): is it okay if i come to your hotel room _

He got a reply almost instantaneously.

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (9:27): Yeah that’s fine, I’m in room 212 _

**zach stop you’re gonna get in trouble** _ (9:27): Is everything okay? _

**You** _ (9:29): not really _

***

Zach didn’t ask him what happened when he showed up at his door, which was a relief. Jeremy wasn’t sure if he would be able to put the feeling into words. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to try.

“So, what happened with the censorship thing?” Zach asked him. He was stretched out on the couch, while Jeremy sat at the edge of the bed. 

“What, with Spring Awakening?” Zach nodded. “I mean, it was what I expected to happen. Mr. Mazzu is determined not to cut a single scene, but, like, it’s  _ Spring Awakening _ . Every song is either about sex or death. Honestly, I have no idea what the show is even going to look like on Friday, or if there’s even a point in going.”

“Hey,” Zach said, sitting up abruptly. “I’m going no matter how shitty it is. I want to support the fuck out of you.”

“They’re probably going to have to cut my solo in Touch Me,” said Jeremy. “And Word of Your Body Reprise is still there, but it isn’t any good.” Even if he and Simon had managed to figure things out between them, which Jeremy wasn’t even sure if they had, there was no way that they’d be able to do the full scene, not with Principal Ward running things. 

“Even if I didn’t want to go, tickets are non-refundable,” Zach replied. “So you’re stuck with me. Hey, are Mom and Dad going?”

Jeremy almost started laughing. “No way.”

“Have you even asked them?”

Jeremy shook his head. “I haven’t even talked to them in days.”

“Why not?”

Jeremy’s first instinct was to lie. He’d done it before. He’d just tell Zach that their paths hadn’t crossed recently, or that he’d been out of the house so much that he just hadn’t seen them. And Zach would believe him, or at least pretend to, and everything would go back to the way it was, to the same thing happening over and over and over again. He used to be content with that. Or not content, not exactly, but he was used to it. It was what was easiest, what would get him into the least trouble, what was the least risky. Opening up, telling Zach exactly what the relationship between him and his parents was like, that was uncharted territory. 

He remembered Simon that afternoon. He had told Jeremy what he was afraid of. He had opened up to him, despite how it could have backfired.

“Zach?” Jeremy said quietly.

Zach looked up. “Yeah?”

“Have Mom and Dad ever…have they ever…” Jeremy paused, taking a breath. “Have they ever hit you before?”

Silence fell over the room. Jeremy stared at the ground, not wanting to look at his brother’s face. “Please say something,” he whispered.

“No,” Zach said finally. “No, they’ve never...that’s never happened. Jeremy, tell me that you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Why else would I ask?” Jeremy said. He still hadn’t looked up, but he still felt Zach’s eyes on him as if they were burning holes in his chest. 

“Jeremy,” Zach said softly, and then he was next to him, his arm hovering just above his shoulders as if he wasn’t sure whether it was okay to touch him. Jeremy made the decision for him, leaning into his side. “How long?” Zach asked him.

“Since you left,” Jeremy said. “When I was...twelve, I think?”

“ _ Twelve? _ ” Zach yelled, and Jeremy flinched.

“It stopped for a while when I was thirteen,” he said quickly. “But…” He hesitated, then reached up, holding his bangs off of his forehead. Zach leaned forwards, staring at the cut. Jeremy had avoiding looked at it himself, but judging from the look on Zach’s face, it didn’t look pretty. 

“What was that from?” Zach asked.

“Friday,” Jeremy said. “Mom hit me hard enough that I fell. I hit my head on the kitchen cabinet.” He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stop shaking. “It was the first time that it happened in three years, and now I’m terrified that it’s going to happen again, and I can’t even look at Mom or Dad without thinking…” His voice cracked and he covered his mouth with one hand, a shudder going down his spine. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see the way Zach was staring at him. 

“Jeremy, look at me. Please,” he heard Zach say softly. Jeremy blinked once, turning his head slightly. Zach was crying, Jeremy realized. It made him feel sick. He put his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders, meeting his eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

Jeremy shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“You’re right,” said Zach. “I don’t know that. But I know  _ you _ . You are one of the strongest people that I’ve ever met, and you’re going to get through this. I promise. I  _ promise _ .” He wrapped his arms around Jeremy, pulling him into a hug. Jeremy closed his eyes, listening to the beating of his own heart thumping a steady, constant rhythm in his ears. He felt hyper-aware of every sound, every feeling, every sense. 

“You can stay here tonight, okay?” Zach said into his ear. “You don’t have to go back there.”

“Okay,” Jeremy whispered around the lump in his throat. He knew that eventually he would have to get back home. He would have to face his parents someday, and someday soon. But he forced the thought out of his head. For right now, he was safe. For right now, he would be okay. 

He slept on the pull-out couch in the hotel room that night. For some reason, it was the best sleep that he’d gotten in months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: space talk - the native architects | sick of losing soulmates - dodie | into the storm - banners  
> talk to me on twitter @annileej and tumblr @glorioussimon!!


	10. the setting sun above it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if they shut us down?” he’d asked. He wasn’t going to lie and say that he wasn’t afraid of that possibility. He was terrified of it. But if they were going to go down, they would go down fighting. And he couldn’t help but smile at that.
> 
> or, opening night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally the first multichapter fic i've ever finished ever and i'm so happy about it. thank you guys so much for reading this far and enjoy the (final) chapter!!  
> (in case you didn't see it on my tumblr: somebody to someone will have a sequel! check the end notes for more details!!)

Jeremy leaned his head against the window, staring out at the front doors of Stanton High School. The sun had just started to dip lower in the sky, and every shadow seemed longer, casting themselves over him.

“You excited?” Zach asked him from the driver’s seat.

Jeremy shrugged. “Not really.”

He heard Zach groan. “Dude. Why? You’re going to kill it tonight. You all are.”

“Yeah, but…” Jeremy sighed. “It’s not like it’s going to be any good. To make all these stupid changes to it just to appease a few assholes who seem to think that their word is law, it just seems so wrong, so pointless. It doesn’t even feel like the same show we rehearsed. It’s not even close.”

“Hey.” Zach put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, and Jeremy turned around to face him. “Don’t let people like that take this away from you. You’re doing what you love, something that you’re crazy talented at, with some of your best friends. You get to pretend to be dating your crush, which, I mean, goals -”

“In an extremely watered-down version of the original scene,” Jeremy muttered. Zach sighed theatrically.

“Let me finish. What I’m trying to say is that you deserve to be happy, and even with all the shit that’s been happening, you deserve to find at least a little happiness in a night like tonight. And you have to promise me that you’ll at least try to.”

Jeremy didn’t answer him. Zach reached out, poking him in the arm. “Come on. Please?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “Fine.”

“Good,” Zach said. He was smiling too, but there was a sort of reservation behind his eyes. Jeremy didn’t think about what it meant. Zach looked up towards the school’s front doors. “You should probably be heading in.”

Jeremy nodded. “See you tonight,” he said.

“See you. Break a leg. You’re amazing.” Jeremy smiled, starting to climb out of the car, pausing when he heard Zach’s voice. “You know what would be great? If you guys just got rid of Principal Ward’s changes. God, imagine how pissed he would be.”

Jeremy laughed. “He’d probably just shut us down.”

“It might be worth it just to see the look on his face,” said Zach.

Jeremy wasn't sure if that was true.

***

But it happened anyway.

***

Jeremy couldn’t make sense of the tangle of thoughts in his head. He couldn’t believe that they were actually doing the original version of the show. Sure, he had hoped that somehow, something would cause Principal Ward to change his mind. But he _hadn’t_. Yet still they were doing it.

“ _What if they shut us down?_ ” he’d asked. He wasn’t going to lie and say that he wasn’t afraid of that possibility. He was terrified of it. But if they were going to go down, they would go down fighting. And he couldn’t help but smile at that.

And then there was Simon…

“Jeremy?”

Jeremy blinked, startled, and looked over at Anabelle. “Shouldn’t you be on stage?” he asked.

“Yeah, but…” Anabelle sighed, shaking her head. “I think we really need to talk.”

She was right. They did need to talk, and Jeremy knew it. There was so much that needed to be said, so much that existed between them, but every thought that Jeremy had, he couldn’t seem to put into words. Anabelle seemed to be having the same problem. She looked down at the ground, not meeting Jeremy’s eyes.

The silence went on for a moment too long. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy said finally. Anabelle said it at the exact same time that he did, and she laughed slightly. Jeremy couldn’t help but smile back. They were still on the same wavelength, just like they had been since they were little kids. It took a moment for what Anabelle had said to sink in. “Wait, what? What do you have to be sorry for?”

Anabelle’s face flushed. “For pushing you. For assuming things that aren’t true.”

Jeremy blinked, glancing down the hallway. They were alone, everyone else either on stage or waiting to go on stage or in the green room. “You were right,” he said quietly. “I do like Simon. And I should have told you that.”

“You’re right, you should have,” said Anabelle. “I would have...I don’t know, backed off of something.”

Jeremy shook his head. “No way. I wouldn’t have let you. You like him too.”

“Yeah, but…” she sighed. “I was kind of rubbing it in your face. And even if I didn’t mean to, I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry. And besides...I kind of think that if it came down to the two of us, he’d choose you.”

Jeremy bit his lip, but didn’t comment on what she had said. “I wanted to apologize for snapping at you on Monday,” he said instead. “I was a jerk. You didn’t deserve that.”

Anabelle shrugged. “I should have responded to your texts,” she said. “You seemed really upset, and I just ignored you. I was kind of having a shitty night, but...you definitely were too.”

Jeremy could hear the question in her voice. “I’ll tell you what happened,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Just...not tonight.”

Anabelle nodded. “Is everything okay?”

“Right now?” Jeremy said. “Definitely. What about you?”

Anabelle smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I’d say so.” She was going to say something else, but the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Harmony came around the corner.

“Anabelle?” she said. She looked simultaneously panicked and exhilarated. Jeremy definitely knew the finale. “The show’s about to start!”

Anabelle nodded, then turned back to Jeremy. “See you soon, I guess?”

Jeremy pulled her into a hug. “Break a leg. Love you.”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. “Love you too.”

She took off down the hallway, and Jeremy watched as she left. He wasn’t sure quite what he was feeling, whether it was happiness or excitement or hope, but whatever it was, he liked it.

***

On stage, Jeremy couldn’t see anyone’s faces, not Zach’s, not Principal Ward’s, no one. And tonight, he preferred it that way. He could lose himself in the music, in his character, forget that there were so many eyes on him and that they were directly disobeying Ward’s orders.

One thing that he couldn’t forget, though, was the scene that was coming up.

He leaned against the wall backstage, listening as Michael sang. “ _I don’t do sadness, so been there…”_

It was only three scenes away. _Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind. Left Behind. Totally Fucked. And then…_

Jeremy felt a tap on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. He turned around quickly, his heart seeming to do a tap dance when he saw Simon standing behind him. “Can we talk?” he whispered. Jeremy studied his face. He looked tense, apprehensive. But he wanted to talk to him. That was a good sign. Jeremy nodded, following Simon out into the hallway. Simon guided him down to the boys’ dressing room, shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“I can’t…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can do the original scene. It’s just, with my family watching, I don’t know…”

Jeremy reached out, touching Simon’s shoulder gently, and Simon looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time that evening. “Simon,” Jeremy said. “That’s okay.”

Simon frowned, but seemed to relax at Jeremy’s touch. “I just feel like I’m letting everyone down,” he said softly. “Mr. Mazzu said that it’s fine, to do whatever version of the scene makes me comfortable, but I just...I don’t _know_.”

“And you don’t have to know,” said Jeremy. “You’re not letting me down. You’re not letting anyone down. Hey.” He reached out with his other hand before he could stop himself, touching Simon’s cheek. Simon leaned into his hand, closing his eyes, and Jeremy’s heart stuttered. “You don’t need to have everything figured out now. This is all really abrupt, I get that. You can take as much time as you need. Do the edited scene, I don’t mind. Neither does anyone else. I promise.”

Simon was still staring at him, his dark eyes meeting Jeremy’s blue. He hesitated before he spoke next. “You told me not to touch you anymore,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper. “But if I do end up doing the original scene, or at least part of it, can I…?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Simon’s face. “And if I don’t...do the scene,” he said. “Then I want to do this now.” His gaze dropped to Jeremy’s lips. Jeremy thought that he was going to stop breathing, his heart leaping into his throat. Simon leaned forwards, his lips just an inch from Jeremy’s. Jeremy could feel his breath on his face and remembered to close his eyes just before Simon’s lips brushed against his.

He was gone in an instant. Jeremy opened his eyes, staring at Simon, whose eyes had gone to the monitor. “Shit,” Simon said. “We have to go.”

Jeremy followed his gaze to see Michael on the stage, raising his gun to his head. “Yeah,” Jeremy said. His own voice sounded as if it was coming from miles away. “We should probably...yeah.”

Simon smiled at him, a real smile, despite the fear still clearly visible in his eyes. Suddenly, so quickly that Jeremy could hardly process it, so quickly that he couldn’t even kiss him back, Simon leaned in and pressed his lips to his.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it began. Their foreheads touched briefly as Simon moved back, still staring into his eyes. “I’ll see you on stage,” he said.

And then he was gone. Jeremy almost believed that the whole thing had been some kind of dream or hallucination. He reached up, touching his lips.

 _God, I’m so gay,_ he thought.

***

The rest of the cast cleared off after Totally Fucked, leaving Jeremy completely alone. He made his way to the edge of the stage, sitting down and dangling his legs over the side.

“Those bells,” he heard Simon say. He swiveled around, meeting his eyes as he came closer to him. “So peaceful.”

Jeremy managed a nervous laugh. His heart felt like it was beating out of its chest. “I know,” he said. _It’s just acting,_ he told himself. _You can handle this._ He was Ernst. He was trying not to make a fool out of himself in front of his crush. He knew that feeling well. He had lived it. Hell, he was living it _right now._ “Sometimes, when it’s quiet in the evening like this, I imagine myself as a country pastor,” he continued. “With my red-cheeked wife, my library, my degrees. Boys and girls who live nearby give me their hands when I go walking…”

“You can’t be serious,” Simon interrupted him. There were a few scattered laughs throughout the audience. Jeremy thought that he might have heard Zach’s, but he wasn’t positive.

At some point during Jeremy’s monologue Simon had moved to sit next to him. “Really, Ernst,” he said. “You’re such a sentimentalist! The pious, serene faces you see on the clergy, it’s all an act. To hide their envy.”

Simon slid closer to Jeremy. He really was a remarkable actor - even Jeremy, sitting just inches away from him, could hardly see the fear flickering in his eyes. “Trust me,” he said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his hand. Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off of him, his gaze flicking to his lips for a split second. “There are only three ways a man can go.“He can let the status quo defeat him - like Moritz. He can rock the boat - like Melchior - and be expelled. Or he can bide his time, and let the system work for him.” He moved closer to Jeremy, their lips just a breath away from each other, Simon’s hand brushing against Jeremy’s. “Like _me_.”

Jeremy felt himself blush, turning away from Simon slightly. He moved his hand closer to his, letting their pinkies intertwine. Simon caught his gaze again. “Think of the future as...a pail of whole milk,” he said. “One man sweats and stirs, churning it into butter. Like...Otto, for example. Another man frets, and spills his milk, and cries all night. Like Georg.” Jeremy laughed slightly, looking down at the floor. A satisfied smile came across Simon’s face. “But me...well, I’m like a pussycat. I just…skim off the cream.”

“Just skim off the cream?”

“Right.”

“But, what about the -” Simon grinned, ducking his head as he laughed. “You’re laughing,” Jeremy said, his shoulders slumping. “What? Hanschen!” He reached out, shoving Simon lightly as he spoke.

Simon held his microphone up to his lips. Just then, his confidence seemed to waver, apprehensiveness flashing across his face. Jeremy nodded slightly, just enough that it would look like part of the scene to anyone that hadn’t been rehearsing it for three months. _You’re okay. You’ve got this._

Simon started to sing, standing up and circling Jeremy as he did. Jeremy’s eyes followed him across the stage, watching, watching, watching. _Beautiful._ Simon was beautiful. His face, his voice, his personality, his _everything._

 _“Oh, you’re gonna be wounded.”_ Simon stepped towards the front of the stage, casting his gaze over the audience. Jeremy could tell that he was avoiding looking at where his parents were sitting.

“ _Oh, you’re gonna be my wound.”_ Simon knelt down in front of Jeremy, his eyes seeming to bore holes in him.

“ _Oh, you’re gonna bruise, too.”_ Simon took Jeremy’s hand in his, pressing his lips to it.

“ _Oh, I’m gonna be your bruise.”_

The world seemed to slow down around them. The music went silent, the audience’s murmurs hushed. All that Jeremy could think about was Simon. The first time that he had seen him, in history class on the first day of freshman year. The first time that they had run this scene together, and how far they’d come since then. In the car after Robbie’s party. Their kiss in the parking lot, and in the dressing room just moments ago. Everything. _Everything_.

And then Simon’s lips were on his, and he couldn’t think at all anymore.

He felt Simon’s hand on his cheek, heard the whispers from the audience and the music playing behind them. And even though he couldn’t hear it, he seemed to feel everything that Simon was putting into this kiss, all the words that he couldn’t say. When Jeremy responded, he hoped that Simon could hear the same thing from him.

The kiss was over far too soon. “Oh, god,” Jeremy said, barely speaking loud enough for the audience to hear him. He wasn’t even sure if he was acting anymore.

“I - I know.” Simon was still staring at him. He blinked, once, twice. “When we look back thirty years from now,” he said, “tonight will seem unbelievably beautiful.” Jeremy hoped that Simon believed in the words coming out of his own mouth. Jeremy certainly did.

“And in the meantime?” he said, leaning closer to Simon, glancing down at his lips.

A smile slowly spread across Simon’s face. “Why not?” He fisted his hands in the front of Jeremy’s hoodie and tugged him close to him, their lips meeting once more. Simon pulled Jeremy down on top of him, Jeremy’s tongue slipping into Simon’s mouth. _Yes._ This was good, this was perfect. If it were up to Jeremy, he’d do nothing but kiss Simon for the rest of his life. But he forced himself to sit up, pulling Simon with him. “On my way here this afternoon, I thought perhaps we’d only…talk.”

Simon let go of him, looking away. “So, are you sorry we -”

“No!” Jeremy reached out, touching Simon’s face and turning his head so that their eyes could meet. “I love you, Hanschen. As I have never loved anyone.”

Simon smiled, really smiled, not acting, for the first time since the scene began. “And so you should,” he said. _And why shouldn’t he?_ Jeremy thought. _Why shouldn’t a boy love another boy?_

Simon pressed his microphone into Jeremy’s hand, and Jeremy lifted it to his face and started to sing. “ _Oh, I’m gonna be wounded._ ” He noticed that a lock of Simon’s hair had come undone, laying across his forehead. Jeremy moved it back into place behind Simon’s ear, feeling the other boy lean into his touch. “ _Oh, I’m gonna be your wound.”_ He held out the microphone, and Simon leaned in, joining him in the song. “ _Oh, I’m gonna bruise you. Oh, I’m gonna be your bruise.”_

Simon reached up, touching his cheek. Their foreheads touched, then their lips, just before the stage went dark.

***

There was the music. There were the lights. There was the sound of the audience cheering, applauding. Jeremy stood in the wings, watching as the rest of the troupe stepped forwards, taking their bows.

Simon stepped up beside him, and Jeremy glanced over at him. “You okay?” he whispered.

Simon nodded, leaning forwards to try to catch a glimpse of the audience. “I think so,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mr. Mazzu was telling them to head on stage. They stepped forwards together, moving at the exact same pace, their hands less than an inch away from each other. They stopped at center stage, looking out at the audience. Jeremy heard Zach yell his name and found him quickly, sitting in the middle of the auditorium, a bouquet of flowers balanced in the crook of his arm as he applauded. There were Michael’s parents next to him, along with a girl about Zach’s age that Jeremy assumed was Michael’s sister.

He felt Simon’s hand brush his, and turned to face him as he intertwined his fingers with Jeremy’s. Simon wasn’t looking at him, instead staring out at the audience, a slow smile spreading across his face. Jeremy’s heart stuttered in his chest. He thought, for about the thousandth time that night, about how beautiful Simon was.

It was moments like these that Jeremy wanted to stay in forever. Moments when he could forget about all the shit that had happened, everything that could happen later, every fear that seemed to constantly be present in the back of his mind. Moments when he truly felt like he was somebody to someone. He felt his thoughts drift to the future.

He didn’t know what would happen next. Not with the show, not with his family, not with the boy standing next to him.

But he realized that he was looking forward to it.

And right then, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recommended listening: the word of your body (reprise)-rise cast version - ted sutherland, sean grandillo | rise up - imagine dragons | youth - shawn mendes | carry you-rise cast version - rise cast
> 
> the sequel will be called start a riot and should be up within the next week! it's essentially a season 2 fic, continuing jeremy's storyline from this story as well as those of the other characters in rise. keep an eye out for it (and check out my tumblr for the playlist)!!!
> 
> talk to me on twitter @annileej and tumblr @glorioussimon!


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